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HE  LOOKED   QUITE   TERRIBLE,   AND   I  THINK   HE   SCARED  HER- 
BERT  A    LITTLE    WHEN    THE   BLINDFOLD    WAS   TAKEN    OFF 


-Page  i6o 


THE  BARNSTORMERS 

AN  ACCOUNT  OF  THE 

BARNSTORMING  OF  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

OF  THE   BARNVILLE 

EDITED 
FROM  THE  RECORD  KEPT  BY  "BOB" 


BY 

MAX  ALEY 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

1914 


COFYKIGHT.   Zgi4,  BT 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
Published  April,  19x4 


C4ttc  a^^^' 


"BOB"  WISHES  TO  DEDICATE  THIS  RECORD  TO 
THE  THREE  WHO,  WITH  HIMSELF,  FORMED 
THE  ORIGINAL  BARNSTORMERS*  DRAMATIC 
CLUB H.   B.  J.,  H.   L.  M.,  AND   E.  J. 


308877 


A  NOTE  BY  "BOB'' 

The  Barnstormers  are  all  "grown-up"  now, 
and  the  four  original  members  of  the  club  are  scat- 
tered in  widely  separated  parts  of  the  United  States. 
Strange  to  say,  not  one  of  them  has  the  remotest 
connection  with  the  theatre.  The  Barnville,  when 
I  saw  it  last,  had  gone  back  to  its  original  purpose. 
Its  loft  was  filled  with  hay,  and  a  horse  occupied 
the  dressing-room  where  Zara  and  Bianca  had 
donned  their  flowing  robes;  the  ticket-window  was 
gone;  the  scenic  splendors  of  the  loft  had  disap- 
peared— rude  hands  had  torn  away  the  last  vestiges 
of  its  theatrical  glory.  But  from  a  beam  hung  a 
few  tatters  of  brown  cambric,  once  part  of  the 
front  curtain;  and  I  found  one  time-stained  hand- 
bill announcing  * '  Bianca. ' ^  Over  in  a  corner  of  the 
loft  was  a  hidden  niche  under  the  eaves,  and  as  my 
hand  crept  back  into  it  and  closed  over  a  dusty 
old  volume,  memories  of  long,  hot  summer  days 
came  back  to  me — days  when  Hal  and  I  toiled  over 


viii  A  NOTE  BY   '>BOB" 

our  writing  of  "Rupert  the  Red  Ranger/'  or  I  sat 
alone,  carefully  recording  the  Barnstorming  of 
the  Barnstormers  of  the  Barnville.  And  when 
I  brought  the  book  forth  from  its  hiding-place, 
there  was  that  same  record — a  cumbersome  old 
ledger  filled  with  my  own  boyish  handwriting. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


He  looked  quite  terrible,  and  I  think  he  scared  Herbert 

a  little  when  the  blindfold  was  taken  off     .   Frontispiece 

FACINO 
PAGE 

They  were  so  surprised  that  they  didn't  even  have  sense 

enough  to  run loo 

John's  voice  was  high  and  cracked,  and  he  made  the 

lines,  sound  their  awfulest 184 

Jglma^s  cave  was  about  the  only  new  setting  for  the 
play.  It  was  lots  of  work  to  get  fixed,  but  we  didn't 
mind  that 244 


THE  BARNSTORMERS 


THE  BARNSTORMERS 

CHAPTER  I 

Saturday y  February  i8. 

Hal  and  I  were  up  in  the  hay-loft  of  our  old 
barn  this  afternoon,  and  I  had  a  real  hunch. 
Hunches  are  funny  things — they  come  to  you 
just  like  a  wink — so  quick  that  you  don't  know 
what  made  them.  But  if  they  are  really,  truly, 
cross-your-heart-and-hope-to-die  hunches,  straight 
from  your  inside,  why,  they  are  worth  considering. 

Well,  mine  was  a  really  hunch. 

It  was  raining,  and  a  rainy  Saturday  is  nearly 
as  bad  as  a  rainy  picnic  day.  We  had  tried  al- 
most everything,  and  we  were  feeling  rather  glum 
and  tired  out  and  grouchy.  Rainy  Saturdays 
make  you  that  way.  We  had  come  up  in  the 
barn  loft  to  do  stunts  on  the  flying  rings.  Hal 
is  a  corker  on  the  flying  rings.  He  can  do  about 
anything — backward  flops  and  double  flops  and 


4  •'   '■'''.  / 'il^^ :  BAPiT STORMERS 

skin-the-cats  with  fancy  variations,  and  a  great 
many  other  stunts  that  have  no  regular  names. 

I  can't  do  much  on  the  flying  rings.  I've  tried, 
but  it  just  isn't  in  me.  Hal  hasn't  given  up  try- 
ing to  teach  me  to  do  the  backward  flop — ^he  says 
that  any  one  who  can  swim  like  I  can  ought  to 
be  able  to  learn  to  do  a  simple  Httle  thing  like 
a  backward  flop — ^but  I  get  scared  every  time. 
Last  summer  I  fell  from  the  rings  and  sprained 
my  wrist  so  that  I  had  to  wear  it  in  a  sHng,  same 
as  if  my  arm  was  broken,  for  a  week.  I've  been 
yellow  when  it  comes  to  flying  rings  ever  since 
that. 

Well,  as  I  said,  it  was  raining.  Hal  had  done 
everything  he  knew  on  the  flying  rings,  with  me 
looking  on,  and  then  we  had  settled  down  to  rest 
on  a  pile  of  hay  over  in  one  comer  of  the  loft. 

Neither  one  of  us  said  much.  We  just  didn't 
want  to  talk — we  both  get  that  way  sometimes. 
If  I  had  wanted  to  talk  it  wouldn't  have  done 
any  good,  for  Hal  didn't  want  to,  and  you  might 
as  well  try  to  pry  open  a  river  mussel  as  to  get 
Hal  to  talk  when  he  doesn't  feel  like  talking. 

The  rain  came  pattering  down  on  the  roof  with 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  $ 

2L  nice,  drizzly,  sleepy  sound,  and  the  hay  was  so 
comfortable  that  I  nearly  went  to  sleep.  I  felt 
like  Lady  Jane  Gray — she's  our  cat — ^when  she 
curls  up  in  her  basket  behind  the  stove  and  purrs. 

That  is  the  way  to  get  a  hunch — ^just  curl  up 
and  purr!  Hunches  won't  come  if  you  try  to 
make  them.  They  pop  up  before  your  mind's 
eye  when  you  are  feehng  real  satisfied  and  think- 
ing of  nothing  in  particular.  It's  just  like  Lady 
Jane  Gray  when  she's  purring  behind  the  stove 
and  a  mouse  comes  along  the  kitchen  floor;  she 
isn't  expecting  it,  she  hasn't  tried  to  coax  it  out, 
but  if  she  gives  one  big  jump  she  can  land  it  sure. 

Well,  I  was  purring — not  really  purring,  of 
course,  but  all  comfortable  and  sleepy,  and  as 
near  to  purring  as  a  fellow  gets — ^when  I  sat  up 
stiff  and  straight  in  the  hay  and  gave  Hal  a  kick 
in  the  ribs.  The  hunch  had  come  to  me:  "Why 
not  have  a  show?" 

I  guess  I  thought  it  out  loud,  for  Hal  heard  me. 

"Too  much  trouble,"  he  said.  "Takes  too 
much  time.     Shows  are  for  little  kids,  an)rway." 

We  are  going  on  fourteen  and  are  in  the  eighth 
grade. 


6  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

"But  I  mean  a  real  show,"  I  said.  "A  play 
like  they  have  at  a  real  theatre." 

Hal  just  grunted.  He  didn't  seem  very  much 
taken  with  the  hunch  I  had  had.  But  I  wouldn't 
give  up. 

"If  we  gave  a  real  play/'  I  said,  "we  could 
charge  five  cents  to  get  in,  and  maybe  we  could 
make  some  money." 

Hal  thought  a  minute.  "Where  are  you  going 
to  get  a  play  we  could  give?"  he  asked. 

Now  that  had  been  part  of  my  hunch.  We 
had  all  read  "Little  Women,"  even  if  it  is  a  girls' 
book.  I  had  been  thinking  about  the  plays  the 
girls  used  to  give  in  their  bam,  when  the  idea 
struck  me  that  if  they  could  do  it  we  could. 
Larry  Donovan's  sister  has  a  book  with  all  those 
plays  in  it.  I  read  it  last  year  when  I  had  the 
chicken-pox.  The  plays  are  good  plays,  too — all 
about  knights,  and  lords,  and  girls  that  were  as 
brave  as  boys.  Jo  and  Meg  wrote  the  plays  when 
they  weren't  much  older  than  Hal  and  I,  and  then 
after  Jo  wrote  "  Little  Women,"  and  it  was  pub- 
lished, why,  these  plays  were  made  into  a  book,  too. 

I    knew    Hal    had    read   the   "Comic   Trag- 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  7 

edies" — that's  what  they  are  called — ^because  Hal 
reads  all  the  books  in  the  neighborhood.  So  I  re- 
minded him  of  them  and  he  was  interested  right 
away. 

'*We  could  make  a  theatre  out  of  this  barn," 
I  said,  "and  give  one  of  the  *  Comic  Tragedies.' 
Jo  and  Meg  gave  their  plays  in  a  barn — and  from 
the  picture  of  it  in  that  book  it  wasn't  half  as 
good  a  bam  as  this  one." 

Hal  seemed  to  be  thinking  about  what  I  had 
said,  but  he  didn't  say  anything  himself  for  quite 
a  while.  He  has  funny,  winky,  little  blue  eyes 
that  all  close  up  into  knots  when  he  thinks  and 
then  open  up  wide  and  surprise  you  when  he  is 
ready  to  say  something.  His  nose  wriggles,  too, 
when  he's  thinking,  and  if  you  know  the  signs, 
why  you  keep  still  till  his  eyes  open  and  his  nose 
gets  peaceful. 

"Do  you  remember  the  'Palace'?"  Hal  asked 
at  last. 

I  did.  The  "Palace"  was  a  theatre  in  Larry 
Donovan's  grandfather's  carriage-house  loft.  It 
happened  last  summer  while  I  was  away  with 
mother  on  a  visit  to  Aunt  Meta  at  her  cottage 


8  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

up  on  Lake  Michigan.  I  had  to  wear  white  duck 
sailor  suits  and  keep  clean,  and  couldn't  go  bare- 
footed. Hal  and  his  brother  John  and  Larry 
Donovan  fixed  up  the  "Palace"  while  I  was  away, 
and  I  missed  all  the  fun.  Only  they  never  did 
give  a  show.  They  were  going  to  have  a  real 
vaudeville  show — acrobatic  stunts  and  some 
music.  The  show  was  to  be  on  Wednesday. 
The  Thursday  before,  they  took  in  Cribby  Mc- 
Cormack  and  Billy  Winters,  because  Cribby 
played  a  harmonica  and  Billy  could  walk  on  his 
hands.  On  Saturday  they  all  had  an  iron-weed 
fight  down  in  the  crick  bottom  where  the  old 
lime-kiln  is.  The  old  lime-kiln  is  just  like  a  fort, 
so  you  can  have  better  fights  down  there  than 
'most  anywhere  around  here.  But  this  time 
Cribby  McCormack  fell  off  the  top  of  the  lime- 
kiln on  his  head.  Only  it  didn't  kill  him,  because 
he  landed  on  top  of  Larry.  He  knocked  the  wind 
out  of  Larry,  and  both  of  them  had  to  be  carried 
home.  And  then  everybody's  fathers  and  moth- 
ers got  all  worked  up,  and  talked  over  the  back 
fences  about  how  it  was  a  wonder  kids  ever  lived 
to  grow  up;   and  of  course  Larry's  grandfather 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  9 

said  there  couldn't  be  no  such  goin's-on  as  a 
show  in  his  carriage-house  loft;  somebody  might 
get  killed  for  sure.  School  began  in  a  week  and 
a  half,  so  folks  forgot  all  about  Cribby  falling  off 
the  lime-kiln;  only  the  town  marshal  posted  a 
sign  down  there  that  said,  '^Five  Dollars  Fine 
For  Trespassing,"  so  we  can't  use  the  lime-kiln 
for  a  fort  any  more.  We  are  all  sore  at  Cribby 
every  time  we  see  that  sign.  He  ought  to  have 
known  that  if  he  went  and  fell  off  the  top  of  the 
thing  there'd  be  a  rumpus,  and  it  would  be  posted 
just  like  it  was! 

"WeU,"  I  said  to  Hal,  "Cribby  McCormack 
doesn't  have  to  break  his  head  and  put  a  crimp 
in  this  show!" 

Hal  laughed.  "But  do  you  suppose  they  will 
let  us?"  he  asked. 

He  meant  our  fathers  and  mothers. 

"Sure,"  I  said.  "If  we  give  a  real  play  they 
will  come  to  see  it." 

"Do  you  think  they  would?"  Hal  asked. 

I  wasn't  real  sure,  but  I  said  yes,  I  thought 
they  would.  You  can  never  tell  about  grown-up 
people.     Sometimes  they  get  real  crazy  about  the 


lo  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

things  you  do — like  shows — and  again  they  tell 
you  to  go  along  and  don't  bother  them. 

"They  go  to  see  the  plays  the  High  School 
Dramatic  Club  gives,"  I  told  Hal. 

Hal  said  "Yes/'  doubtfully,  and  then  his  eyes 
winked  and  went  into  little  knots,  and  his  nose 
wriggled. 

I  got  up  and  looked  at  the  loft.  It  is  quite 
a  big  loft  and  just  about  right  to  give  plays  in. 
The  part  over  the  carriage  room  is  raised,  so  that 
the  ceiling  below  will  be  higher,  and  that  makes 
a  platform  at  one  end.  Of  course  that  would  be 
the  stage.  The  other  part,  where  we  could  have 
the  seats,  is  more  than  half  of  the  loft  and  would 
give  room  for  all  the  people  who  would  come. 

While  I  was  looking  around  the  bam  Hal  sat 
there  thinking.  But  he  was  looking  around,  too. 
That's  one  other  thing  about  Hal;  he  takes  every- 
thing in  for  himself.  I  knew  he  was  figuring  it 
all  out,  and  that  when  he  got  ready  to  talk  he'd 
talk — ^but  not  before. 

That's  the  advantage  of  growing  up  with  a 
fellow.  You  know  just  how  to  take  him  and  just 
how  to  act  when  he's  around.    Hal  and  I — why, 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  ii 

we  have  known  each  other  ever  since  we  started 
to  school — eight  long  years! 

Hal  has  brains.  As  long  as  IVe  known  what 
brains  were,  IVe  known  Hal  had  them.  But  any- 
how, most  boys  have  more  brains  than  they  get 
credit  for  having. 

After  a  while  we  got  to  talking  about  the  plays 
in  the  book  of  "Comic  Tragedies."  "We  will 
give  *The  Captive  of  Castile'  first,"  Hal  said. 
"It's  one  of  the  best  in  the  book,  and  it  doesn't 
look  very  hard." 

"But  we  have  to  have  the  theatre  before  we 
give  the  play,  don't  we?"  I  asked. 

Hal  laughed.  "Yes,"  he  said,  "that's  what  we 
did  when  we  had  the  'Palace.'  We  spent  a  whole 
week  getting  the  place  ready  for  a  show  we  never 
gave." 

"Did  you  spend  any  money?" 

Money  is  pretty  scarce  with  all  of  us. 

"No,"  said  Hal,  "didn't  spend  any.  Just 
threw  away  a  week  of  perfectly  good  time." 

That  made  me  think.  I  guess  Hal  was  right. 
We'd  better  be  sure  of  the  show  before  we  fix 
up  the  barn. 


12  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

We  fell  to  talking  then  about  how  we  would 
fix  it  up  when  the  time  came.  We  both  think 
it  will  make  a  corking  good  theatre.  Of  course, 
we  will  have  the  stage  on  the  raised  part  over 
the  carriage  room.  The  part  for  the  audience 
will  take  up  the  rest  of  the  loft.  We^U  have  seats 
made  out  of  boards  laid  across  from  boxes. 
And  down-stairs  we're  going  to  fix  up  a  ticket 
office  just  like  they  have  in  a  real  theatre. 

"How  many  people  does  it  take  to  give  'The 
Captive  of  Castile'?''  I  asked  Hal. 

He  thought  for  a  minute.  "Four,  I  think," 
he  said.  "It's  written  so  that  two  people  can 
take  all  the  parts  if  necessary.  Don't  you  re- 
member in  'Little  Women,'  Jo  and  Meg  acted  all 
the  parts  in  the  plays  they  gave?" 

I  had  forgotten  that,  but  when  he  spoke  of  it 
I  remembered.  "Then  we  don't  need  but  two 
more,  do  we?" 

"That's  all." 

"Larry  Donovan?" 

"Sure,"  said  Hal,  "we  must  have  Larry  Dono- 
van." 

"And  how  about  John?" 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  13 

Hal  shook  his  head.  "Can't  say  about  John. 
Larry  will  be  in  for  it  right  away,  but  John  may 
not  be." 

If  Hal  is  for  anything,  John  is  usually  against 
it.  That's  the  way  with  brothers.  Makes  me 
glad,  sometimes,  I  haven't  any — still  I  miss  mine 
that  I  haven't  got,  and  I  wish  I  had  one,  even 
if  he  didn't  always  want  to  do  just  what  I  did. 

We  knew  we  could  count  on  Larry.  He's  al- 
ways in  for  everything.  He  sticks,  too.  Last 
year  when  we  dug  a  cave  in  the  clay-bank,  Larry 
stuck  by  it  when  the  rest  of  us  all  gave  it  up 
because  it  got  water  in  it.  Larry  baled  the  water 
out  with  a  tin  coffee-can,  and  then  put  boards 
down  to  walk  on.  We  all  came  back  feehng 
pretty  small.  We  elected  Larry  Heap  Big  Chief 
of  the  cave-dwellers,  and  that  evened  things  up, 
because  the  Heap  Big  Chief  had  the  power  of  life 
and  death  over  all  his  subjects.  (Not  really  life 
and  death,  of  course.  Just  pretended  kind.  We'd 
all  read  a  book  called,  "Captured  by  the  Cave- 
Dwellers,"  so  we  dug  a  cave,  and  played  we  were 
cave-dwellers  like  those  it  told  about  in  the  book.) 

Hal  and  I  decided  not  to  ask  any  one  but  John 


14  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

and  Larry  to  be  in  our  show.  When  you  get  too 
many  you  always  have  trouble.  After  a  while  we 
can  ask  another  fellow  or  so  if  we  wish. 

"We  can  make  it  a  regular  club/'  said  Hal,  "a 
dramatic  club,  like  the  one  they  have  in  high 
school.  Then  we  can  give  it  a  name,  and  have 
a  president  and  a  treasurer,  and  hold  meetings. 
If  we  take  in  any  new  members  we  can  initiate 
them  just  Hke  the  High  School  Dramatic  Club 
does." 

The  part  about  the  name  made  the  biggest  hit 
with  me.  I  hadn't  thought  about  that.  "What 
will  we  name  it?"  I  asked. 

Hal  wrinkled  his  nose  and  thought  real  hard. 
Then  he  looked  up  and  his  eyes  opened  wide. 

"I've  got  it!"  he  said  at  last.  "I  was  reading 
some  old  magazines  up  in  the  attic  the  other  day, 
and  I  found  something  by  Joe  Jejfferson — the  man 
who  plays  Rip  Van  Winkle.  He  was  telling  about 
how  it  was  when  he  was  a  Httle  boy,  and  his 
mother  and  father  were  acting  in  a  traveUing  com- 
pany. They  were  going  through  the  South,  and 
since  there  were  no  theatres  in  that  part  of  the 
country  in  those  days,  the  actors  would  find  a 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  15 

big  barn  in  the  town  where  they  were  going  to 
play,  and  set  up  their  scenery  and  give  their  play 
in  it.  People  called  the  actors  who  did  this, 
'Barnstormers.'" 

"Well?"  I  said. 

"That's  what  we'd  call  ourselves,"  said  Hal, 
"for  we'd  be  playing  in  a  barn  just  like  those 
actors  did  when  Joseph  Jefferson  was  a  little  boy." 

"The  Barnstormers,"  I  said  to  myself,  "that's 
a  good  name." 

"Then  we  must  have  a  name  for  our  theatre," 
said  Hal. 

I  thought  a  minute.  "Why  not  'Barnville'?" 
I  asked. 

"Good!"  said  Hal.     "Fine!" 

So  we  fixed  it  up.  We,  the  Barnstormers,  are 
going  to  barnstorm  in  the  Barnville! 


CHAPTER  II 

Tuesday,  February  21. 

Well,  the  Barnstormers  are!  We  have  organ- 
ized (that  is  what  Hal  calls  it)  the  Barnstormers' 
Dramatic  Club. 

I  told  John  all  about  my  hunch  that  we  could 
make  a  theatre  out  of  our  old  barn.  I  didn't 
mention  Hal  at  all,  and  John  thought  he  was  in 
on  the  ground  floor.  He  said  he  would  be  for  it 
strong,  and  that  he  thought  it  was  the  best  hunch 
ever. 

Father  and  mother  and  I  were  invited  to  the 
Jamesons'  for  dinner  Sunday,  and  in  the  after- 
noon, when  dinner  was  over,  Hal  and  John  and 
I  went  up  to  their  room  to  talk  about  the  Barn- 
stormers. We  telephoned  for  Larry  to  come  over, 
and  when  he  came  we  told  him  all  about  it,  and 
then  organized  the  club.  I  am  president,  Hal  is 
treasurer,  John  is  to  play  the  hero  parts,  and 
Larry  is  stage-manager. 

i6 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  17 

Our  first  play  is  to  be  "The  Captive  of  Castile" 
from  the  book  of  "Comic  Tragedies" — ^just  like 
Hal  and  I  decided  that  day  in  the  barn.  Larry's 
sister  let  us  have  her  copy  of  the  book,  and  we 
are  going  to  write  out  each  part  from  it. 

There  are  five  characters:  Bernardo,  Lord  of 
Castile;  Ernest  U Estrange,  an  EngHsh  lord;  Her- 
nando, a  priest;  Selim,  a  slave;  and  Zara,  Ber- 
nardo^ s  daughter.  Hal  is  to  be  Bernardo,  who  is 
fierce  and  very  cruel.  John  is  to  play  Ernest 
UEstrange,  the  hero.  Larry  is  to  play  two 
parts — Hernando  and  Selim,  They  aren't  very 
long  parts  and  they  don't  come  in  at  the  same 
time.     I  am  to  be  Zaral 

I  don't  like  the  idea  of  being  a  girl.  Boys  are 
boys  and  girls  are  girls,  and  I'm  quite  satisfied 
where  I  am.  But  somebody  has  to  be  Zara — or 
we  will  have  to  take  a  girl  into  the  Barnstormers. 
We  don't  want  to  do  that,  so  I  guess  it  is  up  to  me. 

I  told  mother  I  was  going  to  be  the  girl  in  our 
show,  and  she  laughed  and  seemed  to  think  it  was 
very  fimny.  But  she's  going  to  fix  me  up  some 
clothes  out  of  some  old  evening  dresses  Aunt  Meta 
left  here.    One  is  blue  satin,  and  mother  says 


i8  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

she'll  make  me  my  costume  out  of  that,  and  then 
if  I  have  to  have  another  one  she'll  make  that 
out  of  an  old  pink  dress.  Then  there's  a  cloak, 
or  a  sort  of  cape,  I  am  to  wear  in  the  woods  when 
I'm  lost.  And  I'm  to  have  a  wig  made  out  of 
brown  burlap  ravelled  out  so  as  to  look  like  hair. 
After  aU,  I  think  it  will  be  fun  to  play  the  part 
of  Zara. 

Mother  thinks  it's  great  we  are  going  to  give 
a  play.  And  Mrs.  Jameson  is  interested,  too.  I 
heard  mother  talking  to  her  over  the  telephone, 
and  they  were  both  laughing,  but  they  seemed 
real  proud  of  us  because  we  had  organized  the 
Barnstormers. 

It's  just  like  I  said.  You  never  can  tell  about 
grown  folks! 

Thursday y  February  23. 

Hal  and  John  and  Larry  and  I  met  over  at 
Larry's  last  night  and  took  turns  reading  until  we 
had  read  "The  Captive  of  Castile."  It  is  a  good 
play,  all  right! 

Zara,  the  heroine,  gets  lost  in  the  woods  and 
is  rescued  by  Ernest^  the  hero,  who  is  an  Enghsh 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  19 

soldier.  Zara^s  father  is  a  Moorish  lord  and  on 
the  opposite  side  in  the  war.  Some  time  later, 
Ernest  is  taken  prisoner  by  the  Moors  and  is 
sentenced  to  die.  He  is  locked  up  in  the  donjon 
of  Bernardo^s  castle  with  the  other  prisoners  who 
are  going  to  have  their  heads  cut  off.  Zara  sees  his 
name  on  the  list  of  prisoners  and  tells  her  father: 
"It  was  he  who  saved  me  from  a  bitter  death 
in  yonder  forest."  But  Bernardo  is  cruel  and 
hard-hearted,  and  he  refuses  to  save  the  man  who 
saved  his  daughter's  Hfe.  But  Zara  is  different 
from  her  father.  She  makes  up  her  mind  to  save 
Ernest  no  matter  what  happens.  She  calls  old 
Selim,  who  has  charge  of  the  donjon,  and  gets  the 
keys  from  him  by  promising  him  that  his  daugh- 
ter shall  be  made  free,  and  be  a  slave  no  longer. 
Ernest  is  in  the  donjon  thinking  about  the  lovely 
lady  he  rescued  from  the  woods,  when  Zara,  all 
disguised,  comes  to  his  cell.  She  pretends  to  be 
a  slave,  and  tells  Ernest  that  her  mistress  is  the 
lady  he  saved  from  the  forest  and  that  now  she 
would  save  him.  But  Ernest  is  brave  and  honor- 
able, and  he  says:  "It  cannot  be.  Much  as  I  love 
my  life,  I  love  my  honor  more,  and  I  am  bound  un- 


20  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

til  my  conqueror  shall  give  back  my  plighted  word 
to  seek  no  freedom  till  he  shall  bid  me  go."  Zara 
tells  him:  "If  there  be  power  in  woman's  grati- 
tude, thou  shalt  yet  be  free,  and  with  thine  honor 
yet  imstained."  Then  as  she  starts  to  go  her  veil 
falls,  and  Ernest  sees  that  it  is  really  the  lovely 
Zara,  They  have  a  mushy  love-scene — I  don't 
know  how  John  and  I  will  ever  do  that — and 
then  Zara  goes.  The  next  day  Bernardo  brings 
home  the  death-warrant  for  the  prisoners — Ernest 
among  them.  Zara  begs  him  to  yet  save  the 
English  lord,  but  he  is  a  mean  old  cuss  and  he 
won't  Hsten  to  her  at  all.  So  that  night  she  steals 
the  death-warrant  from  imder  his  pillow,  and 
when  he  wakes  up  the  next  morning  it  is  "burnt 
to  ashes  and  scattered  to  the  winds."  Of  course 
Bernardo  is  mad  as  can  be.  Zara  pleads  and 
begs  for  Ernesfs  life,  because  Bernardo  says  it 
doesn't  matter  about  the  old  death-warrant  any- 
way, he'll  chop  off  the  prisoners'  heads  just  the 
same.  But  finally  he  agrees  to  spare  Ernest  if 
Zara  will  swear  by  her  dead  mother's  spirit  never 
to  wed  a  man  but  of  her  own  race.  That  is  pretty 
tough  on  Zara,  but  she  is  brave,  so  she  swears, 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  21 

and  Ernest  is  saved.  She  goes  to  his  cell  and 
tells  him  all  about  it,  and  they  have  another 
mushy  love-scene  and  then  say  good-by  forever. 
Zara  says  her  heart  is  broken  and  she  wishes  she 
was  dead.  So  she  "seeks  out"  Hernando,  an  old 
priest,  whom  she  hopes  can  comfort  her.  It  is 
a  good  thing  she  goes  to  him,  for  Hernando  knows 
the  secret  of  her  Hfe,  and  when  she  tells  him  all, 
why,  her  troubles  go  away  Hke  a  puff  of  smoke. 
Hernando  says  she  isn't  Bernardo^s  daughter  at 
all.  Her  father  was  an  English  lord  and  her 
mother  was  a  Moorish  lady.  They  both  died  and 
left  her  to  him,  and  he  took  her  to  Bernardo  to 
raise,  because  Bernardo  had  been  a  friend  of  her 
mother's.  Zara  is  very  happy,  because  now  her 
vow  doesn't  hold  and  she  can  marry  Ernest  if 
she  wants  to.  She  goes  home  and  finds  a  letter 
from  Ernest  waiting  for  her.  He  tells  her  that 
Bernardo  is  going  to  betray  the  city  to  the  Span- 
ish king,  but  instead  of  his  Hfe  and  Hberty,  which 
the  king  has  promised  him,  he  will  be  slain.  Er- 
nest  tells  her  to  bid  Bernardo  flee  and  to  go  with 
him.  So  Zara  tells  Bernardo  that  she  knows  he 
isn't  her  father,  and  that  he  is  an  old  traitor  be- 


22  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

sides.  He  goes  all  to  pieces  and  says:  "Lost! 
Lost!  Fool  that  I  was  to  trust  the  promise  of 
a  king!  Disgraced,  dishonored,  and  betrayed! 
Where  find  a  friend  to  help  me  now?"  Then 
Zara,  who  is  too  noble  to  go  off  and  leave  him 
taking  on  like  that,  says:  "Here — ^in  the  child 
who  cHngs  to  thee  through  danger,  treachery, 
and  death.  Trust  to  the  love  of  one  whom  once 
thou  loved,  and  who  still  longs  to  win  thee  back 
to  happiness  and  honor."  So  they  fix  it  all  up,  and 
Bernardo  goes  off  to  get  ready  to  leave  and  Zara 
is  alone.  A  messenger  comes  from  Ernest  with  a 
letter  teUing  Zara  the  bearer  will  lead  her  to 
safety.  But  Zara  has  promised  to  help  Bernardo 
escape,  and  she  isn't  the  sort  to  go  back  on  her 
word.  She  says:  "What  shall  I  do?  Oh, Ernest, 
where  art  thou  now?"  And  then  the  messenger, 
who  was  Ernest  all  the  time,  throws  off  his  dis- 
guise and  says:  "Here,  dearest  Zara!  Here  at 
thy  feet  to  offer  thee  a  true  heart's  fond  devo- 
tion." And  so  they  do  get  each  other  after  all, 
and  are  married  and  Hve  happy  ever  after.  Only 
first  they  get  old  Bernardo,  and  all  leave  together 
for  "another  and  a  happier  home." 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  23 

Friday,  February  24. 

I  have  copied  all  my  part,  which  was  quite  a 
task.  At  first  I  wanted  to  copy  all  the  play,  but 
Hal  said  there  wasn't  any  sense  to  that,  for  all 
you  needed  to  do  was  to  copy  your  own  speeches 
and  the  cues.  Of  course  I  didn't  know  what  cues 
were,  but  I  kept  quiet  and  waited  till  Hal  showed 
me  how  he  had  started  to  copy  his  part.  Then 
I  found  out  that  cues  are  the  last  words  of  the 
speech  that  comes  just  before  your  own.  You 
write  out  three  or  four  words,  like  this: 

Ernest.  .  .  .  not  trust  me? 

That  is  the  cue  for  Zara^s  next  speech: 

Zara.  Ernest,  thou  knowest  my  heart  is  thine, 
and  that  to  thee  I  trust  with  joy  my  life  and 
happiness.  No  vow  stands  now  between  us.  I 
am  thine. 

Ernest.  ...  let  me  lead  thee. 

Zara.  I  come,  etc. 

Then  when  you  learn  the  part  you  learn  the 
cues  as  well  as  your  own  lines,  and  that  way  you 
know  when  your  time  comes  to  speak. 


24  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

I  am  afraid  I  shall  never  learn  all  Zara  has  to 
say.  She  certainly  did  like  to  talk! — but  then  I 
guess  all  girls  and  women  are  that  way.  Zara 
does  most  of  the  talking  in  the  play — and  that  is 
forty-five  pages  long.  Still,  I  can  get  things  by 
heart  pretty  easily.  I  just  about  know  all  of  my 
first  act  now.  Ernest  has  the  first  speech,  and 
then  he  hears  some  one  coming  and  hides.  Zara 
enters  crying,  and  says:  "Heaven  shield  me! 
Whither  shall  I  turn?  Alone  in  this  wild  forest, 
where  may  I  find  a  friend  to  help.  The  dark 
storm-cloud  gathers  and  I  am  shelterless" —  etc. 
It's  very  fine  writing.  Jo  and  Meg  were  differ- 
ent from  most  girls.  But  then  Jo  grew  up  and 
wrote  books,  and  there  aren't  many  girls  do  that. 
I  wish  I  could  have  been  a  boy  then  instead  of 
now,  and  played  the  villain  in  their  plays. 

Next  week  we  are  to  have  rehearsals  of  the 
play — the  first  three  acts  to  begin  on.  Then  if  it 
goes  all  right,  we  can  begin  to  fix  up  the  Bamville. 
The  weather  is  too  cold  now,  but  by  the  time  we 
are  ready  to  give  the  play  it  will  be  warm  enough. 
Hal  thinks  we  can  give  it  Easter  vacation.  School 
is  out  for  a  week  then.    I  have  it  all  marked  off 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  25 

on  the  calendar.  Vacation  begins  Friday,  March 
31,  and  school  starts  again  Monday,  April  9.  Hal 
and  Larry  want  us  to  give  the  play  on  Wednes- 
day of  vacation  week. 

Larry's  cousin,  Edgar  Donovan,  is  in  the  High 
School  Dramatic  Club.  He  is  a  senior  this  year. 
Larry  told  him  all  about  the  Barnstormers,  and  he 
has  promised  to  help  us  some.  He  let  Larry  have 
a  book  called  "Hints  to  Amateur  Thespians." 
Larry  showed  it  to  us  to-day  at  noon-hour.  None 
of  us  knew  what  Thespians  meant,  but  the  book 
was  all  about  giving  plays  in  double  parlors,  and 
how  to  make  curtains  and  scenery,  and  so  on. 
I  think  the  book  will  be  quite  a  help  to  us. 

That  word  Thespians  made  me  curious,  so  I 
looked  it  up  in  the  big  dictionary  on  teacher's 
desk.  That  said  it  came  from  Thespis,  founder 
of  the  Greek  drama,  and  that  Thespians  were 
actors. 

But  I  still  wanted  to  know  more,  so  at  supper 
I  asked  dad  if  he  knew  anything  about  Thespis. 
He  looked  funny,  and  said  something  to  mother, 
and  they  both  smiled.  He  told  me  to  wait  till 
I  was  through  supper,  and  then  I  could  read  about 


26  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Thespis  for  myself.  So  we  got  the  Sou-Vit  vol- 
ume of  the  encyclopaedia,  and  I  found  Thespis, 
but  it  said  to  look  under  drama.  So  I  got  the 
Chi-Ele  volume. 

That  article  on  drama  was  full  of  terribly  big 
words,  and  had  a  lot  of  stuff  in  it  I  didn't  under- 
stand, but  I  managed  to  get  a  little  out  of  it. 

They  had  something  Hke  plays  way  back  even 
in  Old  Testament  times,  so  this  said,  and  then 
when  it  came  down  to  Greek  times,  the  Greeks 
had  all  sorts  of  plays.  These  plays  started  through 
people  singing  in  choruses.  Thespis  put  speeches 
in  between  the  songs,  so  they  call  him  the  father 
of  Greek  drama.  Then  nothing  much  happened 
in  a  dramatic  way  during  the  Middle  Ages  until 
about  the  twelfth  century  when  the  churches 
began  having  httle  plays  at  Easter  time.  These 
were  all  about  Christ's  birth,  and  were  part  of 
the  service.  After  a  while  they  began  giving  these 
plays  outside  the  church  in  the  churchyard,  and 
they  became  so  popular  that  they  had  them  for 
all  the  other  holidays  and  saints'  days.  Then 
people  began  to  write  Httle  plays  about  Bible  char- 
acters, and  these  were  given  on  wagons,  like  the 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  27 

floats  we  have  in  parades  to-day.  Finally,  real 
theatres  were  built,  and  then  Shakespeare  came, 
and  he  wrote  real  plays  like  the  ones  we  have  at 
the  present  time. 

Dad  talked  to  me  a  lot  about  plays  after  I  had 
read  that  article  on  drama.  He  seemed  to  be 
quite  proud  of  me  because  I  wanted  to  know 
about  such  things.  He  promised  that  if  I  made 
good  grades  at  school  and  kept  up  my  deport- 
ment grade  to  where  it  ought  to  be,  that  the  next 
time  he  went  to  the  city  I  should  go  along  and 
he  would  take  me  to  the  theatre.  Wouldn't  that 
be  great! 

Sunday,  February  26. 

It's  a  nasty  Sunday — rain  and  snow  all  mixed 
up.  I  have  a  cold,  and  can't  go  out.  Hal  prom- 
ised to  come  over,  but  he  hasn't. 

T  have  been  reading  the  "Hints  to  Amateur 
Thespians."  I  think  it  will  help  us  quite  a  bit. 
In  the  "Introductory  Remarks,"  it  says  that,  "It 
must  be  understood  that  this  work  is  intended 
to  aid  where  there  are  none  of  the  facilities  of  a 
theatre,   to   assist  an  intelligent  Httle  company 


28  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

who  are  forced  to  change  a  parlor,  lodge  room,  or 
other  large  apartment  into  a  place  of  amusement 
with  a  stage  and  its  accessories."  I  reckon  a 
bam  will  serve  just  as  well  as  a  "parlor,  lodge 
room,  or  other  large  apartment"!  We  have  the 
inteUigent  little  company,  anyway. 

Then  the  "Hints"  goes  on  to  tell  how  to  make 
the  curtain  go  up  and  down,  and  how  to  make 
scenery,  and  a  wind  machine,  and  a  thunder  sheet, 
and  all  sorts  of  things.  The  fimniest  part  is  the 
chapter  "To  the  Stage-Manager."  It  says  your 
company  should  be  divided  into: 

Male 
Leading  man.  Juvenile  man, 

Heavy  man.  Old  man  and  characters. 

Light  comedian,        Walking  gentleman, 
Low  comedian,  Utility. 

Female 
Leading  lady.  Juvenile  lady, 

Soubrette  and  ingenue,     Old  lady. 

Aren't  those  names  funny?  I  understood  what 
the  leading  man  was,  but  the  "heavy"  sounded 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  29 

queer.  It  says  later  that  he  is  the  one  who  plays 
the  villain  parts.  So  Hal  is  our  "heavy."  I 
didn't  know  what  the  "walking  gentleman"  could 
be,  but  it  says  he's  an  actor  to  whom  you  can 
give  responsible  parts  of  any  sort.  Larry  is  our 
"walking  gentleman,"  I  suppose.  Of  course,  I 
am  the  leading  lady.    He-haw! 

Then  the  "Hints"  tells  all  about  rehearsals  and 
what  you  should  do  at  them.  First  it  says  you 
should  have  "reading  rehearsals."  Each  person 
reads  from  his  own  part.  That  is  to  help  you  be- 
fore you  begin  to  learn  the  lines.  You  can  have 
as  many  of  these  as  you  think  necessary.  I  think 
we  will  need  four  or  five,  at  least.  Then,  when  you 
have  learned  your  hues,  you  have  regular  re- 
hearsals. Somebody  acts  as  prompter,  keeping  the 
play  before  him  ready  to  tell  you  if  you  make  a 
mistake.  When  you  start  on  these  regular  re- 
hearsals you  begin  to  work  out  your  positions  on 
the  stage,  and  you  try  to  remember  them,  just  as 
you  would  your  Knes. 

Say,  I  am  sure  glad  I  had  my  hunch!  We  are 
going  to  have  more  fun  out  of  the  Barnstormers 
than  anything  we  ever  did  before! 


CHAPTER  III 

Monday,  February  27. 

It  is  ten  o'clock!  I  ought  to  be  in  bed,  but  we 
have  just  finished  a  reading  rehearsal  of  the  play, 
and  I  want  to  "write  it  up." 

We  did  pretty  well,  I  think,  considering  that 
it  was  our  first  rehearsal.  We  each  read  from  our 
parts,  and  I  kept  the  book  before  me  to  see  that 
we  had  the  lines  the  same  as  they  are  there.  It 
took  an  hour  to  get  through  the  play,  and  after 
that  we  talked  about  our  plans  for  another  hour. 
We  never  would  have  quit,  I  guess,  if  Mrs.  Jame- 
son hadn't  called  up  mother  by  'phone  and  asked 
her  to  send  Hal  and  John  home. 

Larry  says  he  will  not  be  stage-manager — ^he 

doesn't  like  the  things  the  stage-manager  has  to 

do.    Hal  has  agreed  to  take  the  job  off  his  hands, 

and  Larry  is  to  be  property-man  instead.     The 

"Hints  to  Amateur  Thespians"  tells  all  about  the 

property-man  and  what  he  has  to  do.    He  is 

30 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  31 

the  one  who  looks  after  the  properties,  and  the 
properties  are  everything  you  use  in  the  play,  Kke 
the  keys  Zara  gets  from  Selim,  and  the  scroll 
with  the  death-warrant,  and  the  necklace  Bernardo 
brings  Zara,  and  so  on,  even  to  the  furniture. 
Who  would  ever  think  you  would  have  to  have 
somebody  just  to  look  after  little  things  hke  those! 
Still,  if  they  weren't  there  at  the  right  time  you 
couldn't  go  on  with  the  show. 

Before  the  reading  rehearsal  we  had  a  meeting 
of  the  Barnstormers'  Dramatic  Club.  I  asked 
dad  at  supper  how  we  ought  to  do,  and  he  said 
the  meeting  shoidd  be  run  according  to  parKa- 
mentary  rules.  That  didn't  mean  much  to  me, 
and  I  guess  I  showed  my  ignorance,  for  he  went 
on  to  explain  all  about  it.  A  president  has  charge 
of  the  meeting  and  calls  it  to  order.  Then  if  a 
member  wants  to  talk  he  says,  "Mr.  President!" 
and  if  the  president  wants  him  to  talk  he  says, 
"Mr.  So-and-so!"  whatever  the  member's  name 
is,  and  then  that  member  "has  the  floor,"  and 
nobody  can  talk  till  he  gets  through.  If  you 
want  to  vote  on  anything  you  must  first  make  a 
motion,  which  has  to  be  seconded  by  another 


32  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

member,  after  which  you  vote,  and  if  more  people 
are  for  it  than  against  it,  it  is  carried. 

I  had  my  doubts  about  us  being  able  to  run 
a  meeting  according  to  parliamentary  rules,  but 
John  knew  exactly  how  it  should  be  done.  He's 
in  the  first  year  of  high  school  and  has  been 
attending  the  Senior  Senate  every  Friday  after- 
noon. John  said  that  if  we'd  start  out  he  would 
see  that  we  kept  going. 

I  sat  behind  the  table  and  pounded  on  it  with 
a  ruler  to  "bring  the  house  to  order,''  which  is 
what  John  said  I  should  do.  Then  next  we  were 
supposed  to  call  the  roll — only  we  had  to  make 
out  a  roll  and  have  a  secretary.  So  Hal  got  up 
and  said:  "Mr.  President,  I  move  Larry  be  sec- 
retary." 

John  said  that  wasn't  the  way  to  do  it,  that  he 
must  say:  "Mr.  President,  I  nominate  Mr.  Don- 
ovan for  secretary." 

Then  Hal  said  he  didn't  see  what  difference  it 
made,  and  John  said  he  ought  to  see  if  he  had  any 
brains. 

I  was  afraid  they  would  get  into  one  of  their 
brotherly  fights  and  stop  the  meeting,  so  I  pounded 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  33 

on  the  table  for  order  and  said:  "Mr.  Larry 
Donovan  has  been  nominated  for  secretary.  Are 
you  ready  to  vote  on  him?" 

They  all  said  they  were  ready  to  vote,  so  we 
passed  out  Httle  sHps  of  paper  and  wrote  yes  or 
no  on  them.  There  were  three  yeses  and  one 
no — that  was  Larry's  own  vote,  I  suppose.  It 
isn't  considered  proper  to  ever  vote  for  yourself. 

Then  John  said  I  must  announce  that  Mr. 
Donovan  had  been  elected  secretary,  so  I  did, 
and  he  came  up  and  sat  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  table.  He  made  out  a  roll  and  called  it,  and 
everybody  answered  "here,"  and  then  we  were 
ready  to  go  on  with  the  meeting. 

John  said  Larry  must  keep  the  minutes  of  the 
meeting,  and  Larry  said  he  didn't  see  how  he 
could  when  he  didn't  have  them.  Then  we  all 
laughed,  and  John  said  that  the  minutes  were 
the  record  of  what  happened  during  the  meeting, 
and  that  the  secretary  was  supposed  to  write 
them  down  while  the  meeting  was  going  on. 

So  I  gave  Larry  a  sheet  of  paper  to  write  the 
minutes  on,  and  Larry  said  he  supposed  he  ought 
to  tick  them  out  sixty  seconds  at  a  time;  and  then 


34  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

we  all  laughed  again,  and  John  said  it  was  a  rum 
joke ;  but  Larry  didn't  get  mad — ^just  grinned  like 
he  always  does. 

Hal  said,  "Let's  drive  on,"  so  we  did. 

Then  John  said,  "Mr.  President,"  and  I  said, 
"Mr.  Jameson,"  just  like  I  was  supposed  to  do, 
and  he  asked  if  he  had  the  floor,  and  I  said  I 
reckoned  he  did  if  he  wanted  it.  Then  John 
looked  important  and  began:  "We  should  have 
a  constitution  for  the  Barnstormers'  Dramatic 
Club,  so  I  wish  to  present  the  following: 

"Article  One 
"The  name  of  this  organization  shall  be  known 
as  the  Barnstormers'  Dramatic  Club. 

"Article  Two 
"The  purpose  of  the  Barnstormers'  Dramatic 
Club  is  to  give  plays. 

"Article  Three 
"When  they  wish,  the  charter  members  may 
take  other  members  into  the  club,  but  each  new 
member  must  be  voted  on  by  all  the  old  members, 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  35 

and  all  must  be  in  favor  of  him  before  he  can  be 
taken  into  the  club. 

"Article  Four 
"Each  new  member  shall  be  required  to  pay 
an  initiation  fee  of  twenty-five  ceiits  and  monthly 
dues  of  five  cents. 

"Article  Five 
"The  membership  is  limited  to  ten. 

"Article  Six 
"The  money  taken  in  at  plays  may  be  spent 
as  the  members  see  fit. 

"Article  Seven 
"Meetings  shall  be  held  every  Monday  night." 

John  stopped  and  looked  around.  "What  do 
you  think  of  it?  "  he  asked. 

"Pretty  good  for  a  girl  to  do,"  said  Larry. 

John  got  red  in  the  face  and  asked  Larry  what 
he  meant. 

"Why,"  said  Larry,  "your  sister  Elizabeth  did 
most  of  it,  didn't  she?" 


36  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

John  looked  funny,  and  then  he  said  we  ought 
to  be  glad  she  did,  because  she  knew  more  about 
it  than  all  of  us  put  together. 

I  said  I  thought  John  was  right,  and  that  we 
ought  to  vote  on  the  new  constitution. 

So  we  voted,  and  everybody  was  for  it,  and  we 
signed  it,  beginning  with  myself,  like  this: 

"Robert  Brewster  Archer." 
"Harold  Jameson." 
"John  James  Jameson." 
"Lawrence  Bartlett  Donovan." 

When  we  had  all  signed,  Larry  moved  that  we 
adjourn,  which  is  the  way  you  say  "Let's  quit," 
and  we  voted  on  it.  Everybody  was  for  adjourn- 
ing, so  the  meeting  came  to  a  close,  and  we  began 
the  reading  rehearsal.  That  took  about  an  hour, 
and  after  that  was  over  we  spent  another  hour 
talking  about  how  we  were  going  to  fix  up  the 
Bamville. 

"We  will  have  to  have  some  money  first,"  said 
Larry.  "How  much  do  you  suppose  it  will  cost 
us  to  buy  stuff  for  the  curtain  and  scenery?" 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  37 

Hal  said  he  had  been  figuring  on  that,  and  he 
thought  we  could  buy  everything  for  three  dol- 
lars. 

"Seventy-five  cents  from  each  one  of  us,"  I 
said. 

"  Gee ! "  said  Larry.    "  That's  a  lot  of  money ! " 

Hal  went  on  to  explain  that  he  had  been  mak- 
ing some  measurements  in  the  barn.  He  said 
that  if  we  made  the  stage  opening  ten  feet  wide 
we  could  have  it  nine  feet  high.  That  would 
mean  that  for  the  curtain  we  would  need  ten 
yards  of  stuff  a  yard  wide.  Then  we  must  have 
a  drop-curtain  to  use  at  the  back  of  the  stage. 
That  would  have  to  be  nearly  as  big  as  the  other 
one — say  nine  yards  for  it.  Then  we  would  need 
six  wings  to  use  along  the  sides  of  the  stage.  They 
would  need  to  be  three  feet  wide  and  six  feet 
high,  and  would  take  twelve  yards  of  stuff.  So, 
adding  it  all  up,  we  found  we  would  have  to  buy 
thirty-one  yards  of  material.  Hal  thought  we 
could  get  it  for  five  cents  a  yard,  which  would 
make  it  cost  us  a  dollar  and  fifty-five  cents. 

For  the  costumes  we  would  have  to  buy  more 
material,  and  Hal  thought  we  could  get  all  of  it 


38  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

for  a  dollar.  We  wouldn't  need  to  buy  any  lights, 
because  we  could  get  old  lamps  from  home,  and 
the  oil  for  them  could  come  from  home,  too.  But 
there'd  be  sure  to  be  other  things  we  hadn't 
counted  on. 

Larry  started  us  on  the  parliamentary  business 
again  by  saying:  '^Mr.  President,  I  move  we  each 
pay  seventy-five  cents  into  the  treasury.'' 

John  seconded  the  motion,  and  we  voted  on  it. 
It  was  passed,  because  everybody  voted  yes. 
But  we  decided  not  to  pay  in  the  money  till  we 
have  the  play  all  ready  and  can  begin  work  on 
the  Bamville. 

Wednesday,  March  i. 

We  had  another  reading  rehearsal  this  after- 
noon. It  went  better.  But  Larry  was  so  funny! 
Larry  is  always  funny.  He  was  just  made  that 
way — with  a  grin  that  won't  come  off. 

The  first  thing  I  can  remember  about  Larry  is 
that  grin.  The  day  I  started  to  school — ^we  had 
just  moved  here  that  August  and  I  started  in 
September — Larry  sat  in  front  of  me.  I  was 
scared  because  I  didn't  know  anybody,  and  I  felt 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  39 

lonesome.  The  teacher  put  some  letters  on  the 
board  and  pointed  to  an  A  and  asked  me  what 
letter  it  was — did  I  know?  I  said,  "Yes'm,  it 
was  A."  Then  she  asked  me  where  it  came  in 
the  alphabet,  and  I  said  I  didn^t  know — because 
I  had  learned  to  read  by  asking  what  printed  words 
meant,  and  then  by  pointing  out  letters  and  ask- 
ing anybody  who  would  tell  me  what  they  were. 
I  hadn't  learned  the  alphabet  in  order  at  all.  So 
I  told  the  teacher  it  was  just  A,  and  that  was  all. 
Then  they  laughed  at  me,  and  I  wanted  to  cry, 
but  Larry  turned  around  and  grinned  real  friendly- 
like,  and  I  grinned  back,  and  everything  was  all 
right,  because  I  knew  we  were  friends. 

Larry  never  could  read  well,  so  it's  funny  to 
hear  him  read  his  part.  He  reads  it  all  in  one 
tone — not  one  word  any  different  from  the  others, 
and  with  a  funny  little  pause  in  between  each  one. 
Like  this  (which  is  one  of  SelinCs  speeches  to 
Zara):  "Lady  —  thou  —  hast  —  made  —  a  — 
slave's  —  life  —  happy  —  by  —  thy  —  care  —  and 

—  through  —  the  —  long  —  years  —  I  —  have 

—  served  —  thee  —  hast  —  never  —  bid  —  me 

—  do  —  aught  —  that  —  was  —  not  —  right." 


40  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

It  does  sound  funny,  but  he  will  do  better  when  he 
has  learned  the  lines. 

Hal  is  just  the  opposite.  He  gets  his  lines  out 
so  fast  that  you  can  scarcely  tell  when  he  is 
through,  for  you  think  he  surely  can't  have 
reached  the  end  in  such  a  short  time. 

John  reads  his  off  in  real  actor  style — ^very  im- 
pressive and  dignified  and  fine.  He  is  going  to 
make  a  good  hero,  all  right. 

I  try  to  say  mine  like  I  think  a  girl  would — ^but 
it  isn't  easy!  My  voice  has  begun  to  change,  so 
I  can't  tell  what  it  is  going  to  do  next.  One  time 
it's  real  ladylike,  and  the  next  minute  it  sounds 
hke  a  bass  viol.  I  know  that  if  I  come  out  and 
say,  "Heaven  help  me,"  way  up  high,  and  then 
finish  up  "whither  shall  I  turn,"  way  down  low, 
that  everybody  will  roar.  But  I  simply  can't 
help  it. 

We  haven't  told  anybody  about  the  Barn- 
stormers yet — except  our  own  famihes,  of  course. 
We  are  planning  to  keep  it  all  a  secret  until  a  week 
before  the  play,  and  then  Hal  will  tell  all  about 
it  in  the  GimleL 

The  Gimlet  is  Hal's  newspaper.    He  has  a  press 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  41 

that  his  Uncle  Jim,  who  owns  a  big  paper  in  Chi- 
cago, gave  him,  and  he  prints  the  Gimlet  on  it 
every  week.  It  costs  five  cents  a  month,  or  two 
cents  a  copy.  He  has  fifty  subscriptions  and 
sells  several  extra  copies  every  week,  but  he  doesn't 
make  any  money,  because  it  takes  all  that  the 
paper  brings  in  to  buy  ink  and  the  other  things 
he  must  have  to  get  it  out.  And  then  some  peo- 
ple don't  pay  their  subscriptions  either!  Mr. 
Wharton,  who  is  editor  of  the  Jordan  Blade — 
that's  the  paper  here  in  town — copies  from  the 
Gimlet  every  week  and  calls  it  "our  leading  ju- 
venile journal,"  and  he  gives  Hal  old  type  and 
old  cuts  to  run,  and  helps  him  lots  of  ways. 
Some  day  Hal  is  going  to  grow  up  and  own  a 
paper  Hke  his  uncle  in  Chicago. 

When  Hal  prints  the  Gimlet  for  March  24,  he 
will  fill  it  up  with  the  story  of  "  The  Captive  of 
Castile,"  and  the  cast,  and  all  about  the  Barn- 
stormers. Then  before  the  play  comes  off  we  will 
print  some  bills,  and  take  those  around  all  over 
town  to  the  people  we  know.  We  do  not  want 
any  strangers  at  our  show  because  they  might 
make  trouble.    We  aren't  going  to  sell  any  tickets , 


42  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

to  the  West-Enders  because  they  would  make 
trouble  sure.  They  have  been  sore  ever  since  the 
East-End  beat  them  in  football  last  fall  and 
Larry  played  on  the  East-End  team. 

We  are  to  have  printed  tickets  with  a  little 
blank  to  fill  in  with  the  number  of  the  seat.  All 
the  seats  will  be  reserved,  just  Hke  they  are  at 
the  Masonic  Hall  for  the  lecture  course. 

Oh,  the  Barnstormers  are  going  to  have  some 
show! 


CHAPTER  IV 

Sunday,  March  5. 

Yesterday  was  a  fine,  warm  day,  so  we  had  a 
rehearsal  in  the  Barnville.  Of  course  it  isn't  any- 
thing but  a  barn  now,  but  we  call  it  the  Barn- 
ville, because  that  is  to  be  the  name  of  it  when 
it  is  made  into  a  theatre. 

The  rehearsal  was  our  first  without  using  parts. 
We  went  through  three  of  the  eight  scenes.  We 
marked  off  the  size  of  the  stage  and  the  entrances 
with  chalk,  and  used  a  soap  box  for  a  chair.  The 
*^ Hints  to  Amateur  Thespians''  says  you  should 
"rehearse  as  soon  as  possible,  and  as  many  times 
as  possible,  on  the  stage  where  your  play  is  to  be 
given."    We  are  trying  to  follow  instructions. 

When  you  begin  to  rehearse  without  parts  it 
seems  much  more  Hke  a  play.  But  all  sorts  of 
things  you  never  thought  of  before  come  up. 
First  of  all  you  must  find  out  which  side  you 

43 


44  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

come  in  from,  and  then  you  must  know  just 
where  you  are  to  be  for  every  speech,  and  just 
what  you  are  to  do.  You  can^t  stand  and  say 
your  lines  as  if  you  were  a  wooden  Indian.  You 
have  to  act — and  it  isn't  easy.  But  it  comes 
easier  than  you  would  think.  Somehow,  when 
you  get  the  swing  of  the  thing,  you  just  act  with- 
out thinking  much  about  it. 

In  "The  Captive  of  Castile"  there  are  never 
more  than  two  people  on  the  stage  at  one  time, 
and  that  makes  the  play  much  easier  for  us.  The 
book  says  that  the  plays  were  written  so  that  Jo 
and  Meg  could  take  all  the  parts,  and  because  of 
that  you  never  have  more  than  two  characters 
appearing  at  once.  Jo  took  all  the  male  parts 
and  Meg  took  all  the  female  parts.  If  two  male 
characters  came  in  one  scene,  Jo  would  change 
from  one  to  the  other  while  Meg  said  a  long  speech. 
I  think,  though,  it  is  better  to  divide  the  parts 
up  as  we  have  done,  because  then  no  one  has  so 
much  to  learn. 

Giving  plays  is  great  fim.  We  had  a  perfect 
circus  yesterday,  because  we  all  felt  funny,  and 
we  put  funny  lines  into  our  parts.    John  said  we 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  45 

shouldn't  do  it,  that  it  wasn't  the  thing  to  do 
at  all.  I  suppose  it  isn't.  But  we  can't  be  seri- 
ous all  the  time;  and  Hal  was  so  funny  that 
even  John  had  to  laugh. 

The  fun  started  in  the  second  scene.  John 
doesn't  come  in  that  scene  at  all,  so  he  sat  down 
in  front  of  us  and  kept  the  book  before  him  to 
prompt.  Hal  and  I  start  the  scene,  and  then 
later  Larry  comes  in  as  Selim. 

I  had  the  first  speech.  I  said  that  right.  It 
is  all  about  how  Zara  longs  to  see  Ernest  again. 
Those  two  surely  had  a  case  of  love  at  first  sight, 
because  they  just  couldn't  forget  each  other. 
Why,  Zara  didn't  seem  to  think  about  anything 
but  seeing  Ernest  again.  And  Ernest  was  just 
the  same  way  about  Zara. 

Well,  after  Zara  has  told  all  about  how  she 
longs  to  see  the  noble  English  stranger,  Ber- 
nardo— Hal — comes  in.  He  is  supposed  to  say: 
"Joyful  tidings,  Zara!  Grenada  is  free.  Here, 
love,  are  gems  for  thee.  They  have  shone  on 
many  a  fair  lady's  neck,  but  none  more  fair  than 
thine." 

What  he  really  said  was  something  like  this: 


46  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

"  Halloo,  kid !  Come  kiss  papa !  Cheer  up !  The 
country's  saved.  Here,  little  one,  are  some  gum- 
drops — "  and  he  reached  in  his  pocket  and  brought 
out  a  pink  one  and  put  it  in  my  mouth.  But  that 
was  all  the  further  he  got  with  the  speech.  John 
was  yelling  at  him  to  stop,  and  Larry  was  on  his 
back  in  a  pile  of  hay  laughing  till  the  tears  rolled 
down  his  face.  I  sat  down  on  the  soap  box  and 
laughed  till  I  choked  on  the  gum-drop.  John 
couldn't  help  himself  and  laughed  too. 

Hal  was  the  only  serious  one  of  the  bunch. 
"Well,  what's  the  matter?"  he  asked.  "Nothing 
funny  to  that.  I  just  couldn't  think  of  my  first 
speech,  so  I  fixed  it  up  to  suit  myself." 

After  we  had  all  laughed  till  we  couldn't  laugh 
any  more,  and  they  had  pounded  me  in  the  back 
to  get  the  gum-drop  out  of  my  Sunday  throat, 
we  went  back  to  the  beginning  and  started  the 
scene  all  over.  This  time  we  did  it  right,  be- 
cause Hal  was  serious  and  said  his  Unes  as  they 
were  written.  Everything  went  well  imtil  Hal 
was  ready  to  make  his  exit.  He  is  supposed  to 
say  "Adieu,  love;  I  must  to  the  council."  I 
am  sure  I  don't  know  what  made  him  do  it,  but 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  47 

what  he  really  said  was  "Adieu,  love;  I  must 
to  the  pig-pen!" 

Of  course,  that  broke  up  the  show  again.  But 
we  went  back  a  few  speeches  and  did  the  finish 
right,  and  so  John  was  satisfied. 

After  Bernardo  leaves,  Selim  comes  in.  Of 
course,  Larry  thought  he  must  do  something  funny, 
too,  since  everybody  else  had  tried  it.  But  he 
couldn't  think  of  any  funny  fines  to  put  in  place 
of  the  real  ones,  so  he  just  said  some  of  those  so 
they  sounded  funny.  John  didn't  like  it,  be- 
cause he  thinks  we  should  do  the  whole  thing  very 
seriously.  Of  course,  he  is  right,  but  we  have  to 
have  a  fittle  fun  as  we  go  along. 

When  my  last  speech  came  I  tried  to  be  serious. 
It  goes:  "Oh,  Ernest,  Ernest!  Thy  brave  heart 
shall  pine  no  longer.  Another  hour,  and  thou 
art  free.  Chains  cannot  bind,  nor  donjons  hold, 
when  woman's  love  and  gratitude  are  thine." 
But  Larry  and  Hal  spoiled  it  for  me.  They  both 
pretended  to  be  shedding  tears  in  their  handker- 
chiefs, and  then  wrung  them  out  as  if  they  were 
soaked  with  water.  No  one  could  be  serious  with 
all  that  going  on. 


48  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

The  third  scene  is  in  Ernesfs  cell.  John  said 
his  first  speech  in  real  actor  style,  and  Hal  and 
Larry  hstened  without  bothering  him.  Then  I 
came  in.  At  first  Ernest  thinks  Zara  is  a  slave 
girl  and  the  servant  of  the  lovely  lady  he  res- 
cued from  the  forest.  Then,  when  she  turns  to 
go,  her  veil  falls,  and  he  sees  that  it  is  none  other 
than  Zara  herself.  Of  course  Ernest  and  Zara 
have  to  have  a  love-scene  then — ^it  just  couldn't 
be  prevented.  Well,  John  and  I  tried  to  do  the 
love-making  as  we  thought  it  should  be  done, 
but  we  couldn't,  because  Hal  and  Larry  made 
noises  like  kisses,  and  giggled  and  snickered. 

I  thought  the  whole  business  was  funny,  too, 
and  I  wanted  to  laugh,  but  John  was  mad.  He 
told  them  they  didn't  know  how  to  behave  at 
all — they  carried  on  just  like  little  kids  in  the  pri- 
mary grades,  and  he  didn't  know  what  would 
ever  happen  to  them  when  they  got  into  high 
school  and  had  to  act  grown-up  and  civilized. 

Then  they  behaved  for  a  while,  and  we  finished 
the  scene.  But  we  were  all  ready  for  some  fun, 
so  we  gave  a  show  that  we  made  up  as  we  went 
along. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  49 

It  was  a  Western  drama — like  one  that  came 
here  to  the  Opera  House  once.  We  decided  that 
I  should  be  the  heroine,  so  as  to  get  in  practice, 
and,  of  course,  John  was  the  hero  and  Hal  the 
villain,  while  Larry  was  to  play  several  characters. 
We  planned  what  we  were  to  do  in  each  act 
before  we  gave  it. 

The  first  act  was  in  a  mining-camp.  We  put 
the  soap  box  to  mark  where  the  hotel  was — there 
always  is  a  hotel  in  mining-camps  in  shows,  Hal 
says.  Then  we  needed  something  for  a  stage- 
coach, because  you  have  to  have  a  stage-coach 
and  a  hold-up  in  a  Western  drama,  or  it  wouldn't 
be  one.  So  we  got  my  little  old  express-wagon, 
which  was  down-stairs  in  one  of  the  stalls. 

The  show  started  with  three  miners — Tender- 
foot Ted,  the  hero,  played  by  John;  Pizen  Pete, 
a  greaser,  who  was  the  villain,  and  acted  by 
Hal;  and  Hold-up  Harry,  a  friend  of  Pizen  Pete's, 
played  by  Larry. 

Pizen  Pete  and  Hold-up  Harry  are  planning  to 
carry  off  Susie,  the  Fairest  Flower  of  the  Rockies, 
who  is  the  heroine  of  the  play.  They  are  sitting 
on  the  porch  of  the  hotel — which  means  they 


50  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

were  sitting  on  the  soap  box — ^and  talking  about 
how  they  can  get  away  with  Susie.  Pizen  Pete  has 
found  out  that  Susie^  the  Fairest  Flower  of  the 
Rockies,  has  the  deed  to  a  mine  that  has  never 
been  any  good,  but  is  going  to  make  her  fortune 
right  away,  because  he  has  found  a  place  in  it 
where  you  can  dig  out  the  pure  gold  by  the 
shovelful.  Only  Susie  doesn't  know  this,  so 
Pizen  Pete  is  going  to  marry  her,  and  get  the  deed, 
and  then  leave  her  to  wander  an  outcast  and 
alone.  But  Tenderfoot  Ted  overhears  their  vil- 
lainous plans,  because  he  is  hiding  in  a  barrel, 
and  so  he  comes  up  and  says: 

"Villains,  you  shall  not  have  the  lovely  maid. 
On  the  honor  of  a  gentleman,  I  shall  defend  her 
with  my  poor  life!'' 

Then  Pizen  Pete  and  Hold-up  Harry  draw  their 
guns  and  say  they  will  kill  Tenderfoot  Ted,  be- 
cause "Dead  men  tell  no  tales."  Only  the 
Sherif — that's  me,  because  I  wasn't  Susie,  the 
Fairest  Flower  of  the  Rockies,  yet — comes  up 
and  tells  them  to  leave  town  at  once,  or  they 
will  be  hung. 

So  they  have  to  go,  but  Pizen  Pete  says  to  Ten- 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  51 

derfoot  Ted:  "You — you — ^you  t-t-tenderfoot-t-t! 
I— I'U  get-t-t  you  yet-t-t-t-t!" 

But  the  Sheriff  says,  "Go!"  and  stands  point- 
ing south  till  they  are  out  of  sight. 

After  that  I  went  off  as  the  Sheriffs  and  waited 
for  Tenderfoot  Ted  to  say  a  long  speech  about 
"Will  I  ever  see  this  lovely  flower,  she  they  call 
the  Fairest  Flower  of  the  Rockies?  Ah,  lovely 
Susan!  Little  dost  thou  know  what  a  noble  heart 
beats  beneath  my  flannel  shirt!  Little  dost  thou 
know  that  I  am  the  Lord  of  Grenville  in  disguise! 
Yet,  lovely  Susan,  thou  fairest  flower,  I  would 
make  thee  mistress  of  my  title  and  my  lands, 
though  I  have  never  looked  upon  thy  loveliness!'' 

Then  I  came  in  as  Susie,  Fairest  Flower  of 
the  Rockies. 

Susie  says:  "WTio  can  yonder  stranger  be?  He 
is  new  to  this  rough  life,  and  yet,  methinks,  a  noble 
heart  beats  beneath  his  tenderfoot  outside.  How- 
dy-do, sir?" 

Then  Tenderfoot  Ted  looks  at  her,  and  knows 
that  she  could  be  none  other  than  herself.  So 
he  says:  "Is  she  real,  or  do  my  eyes  deceive  me? 
Lovely  maid,  a  thousand  pardons,  but  are  you 


52  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

not  Susie,  whom  men  call  Fairest  Flower  of  the 
Rockies?" 

She  says  she  is,  and  he  tells  her  his  name,  and 
then  they  are  acquainted.  He  tells  her  about 
the  plots  of  Pizen  Pete  and  Hold-up  Harry  to  rob 
her  of  her  mine. 

"Those  men  will  stop  at  nothing!"  says  Susie. 
"Oh,  Theodore,  I  am  afraid!" 

"Do  not  fear,  dearest,"  he  says.  "Naught 
shall  harm  you  while  my  strong  arm  isn't  broken." 

"My  brave  hero!"  she  cries,  and  throws  her- 
self into  his  arms.  Then  the  curtain  goes 
down — only  this  time  there  was  none  to  go. 

The  scene  of  the  second  act  is  a  pass  in  the 
mountains.  Pizen  Pete  and  Hold-up  Harry  come 
in,  planning  to  hold  up  the  stage-coach.  They 
know  that  Tenderfoot  Ted  and  Susie,  the  Fairest 
Flower  of  the  Rockies,  are  in  the  stage-coach 
going  to  look  at  Susie^s  mine,  because  Tender- 
foot Ted  is  a  mining  engineer,  hke  HaFs  and  John's 
grown-up  brother,  and  he  can  tell  whether  the 
mine  will  pay  or  not. 

Pizen  Pete  and  Hold-up  Harry  hide  behind  some 
rocks — soap  box  again — and  wait  for  the  stage- 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  53 

coach  to  come.  They  talk  about  what  they  will 
do  with  Susie^s  money  when  it  is  theirs,  and  how 
they  will  get  even  with  Tenderfoot  Ted,  At  last 
the  stage-coach  comes.  (John  and  I  sat  astrad- 
dle of  the  wagon  and  pushed  it  with  our  feet.) 
As  the  stage-coach  gets  near  the  rocks,  up  pop 
the  villains  with  guns  levelled  at  the  heads  of  their 
innocent  victims.  But  Tenderfoot  Ted  is  a  real 
hero,  and  Susie,  Fairest  Flower  of  the  Rockies, 
is  a  heroine  of  nerve  and  bravery. 

"No!"  cries  Tenderfoot  Ted,  "NO!  ViUains, 
you  shall  not  have  the  lovely  Susan  while  Kfe 
remains  in  my  body.  Take  that  and  THAT ! "  and 
he  shoots  them  dead,  while  Susie  screams  bloody 
murder. 

In  the  last  act  Lord  and  Lady  Grenville — our 
former  friends,  Susie,  Fairest  Flower  of  the 
Rockies,  and  Tenderfoot  Ted,  the  fearless  hero, 
have  built  a  palace  at  the  mining-camp,  and  live 
there  in  the  summer,  but  spend  the  rest  of  the 
year  in  Lord  Grenville's  castle  in  England.  Only 
the  mining-camp  isn't  a  mining-camp  any  more. 
It  has  grown  up  to  be  a  big  city,  with  electric 
lights  and   trolley-cars  and  prominent  citizens. 


S4  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Two  of  these  last  are  Pizen  Pete  and  Hold-up 
Harry,  who  weren't  killed,  after  all,  and  have 
reformed  and  become  millionaires.  And  so  every- 
body lives  happy  ever  after. 

I  guess  we  made  a  lot  of  noise  in  that  act  where 
the  villains  hold  up  the  stage-coach,  because  Mrs. 
Strong,  who  lives  next  door  to  us  and  has  nerves, 
called  mother  on  the  telephone  and  asked  who 
was  being  murdered  in  our  bam. 

Wednesday,  March  8. 

We  had  another  rehearsal  after  school  this  after- 
noon. We  know  our  parts  through  the  fourth 
scene  now.  That  is  doing  pretty  well,  I  think. 
Anyway,  we  feel  siu-e  that  the  play  will  really  be 
given,  so  we  are  planning  to  buy  the  cambric  for 
the  curtain  and  scenery  on  Friday  afternoon,  and 
on  Saturday  make  the  barn  into  the  Bamville. 

We  have  each  paid  seventy-five  cents  into  the 
treasury,  so  we  have  three  dollars  to  buy  the  cur- 
tain, scenery,  and  costumes.  Each  of  us  made  the 
money  by  doing  some  sort  of  work.  Larry  took 
Jean  Andrew's  paper  route  for  a  week  while  Jean 
was  sick.    Hal  did  some  "job "-printing  on  his 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  55 

press,  and  John  did  some  typewriting,  which  he 
does  very  nicely,  for  some  of  the  seniors  in  high 
school.  I  am  washing  dishes  for  a  week.  Moth- 
er's hired  girl  left,  and  we  will  not  have  the  new 
one  till  next  Monday. 

The  weather  is  fine,  and  the  newspaper  says 
that  some  man  by  the  name  of  Ricks,  who  is  a 
weather  prophet  out  in  Kansas,  prophesies  an 
early  spring.  I  hope  the  old  fraud  is  right  this 
once.  But  it  is  warm  enough  now  for  us  to  use 
the  Bamville  for  rehearsals.  So,  as  I  said,  we  are 
going  Friday  afternoon  to  the  Bee  Hive  store, 
which  is  the  biggest  dry-goods  store  in  town,  and 
buy  the  stuff  for  our  curtain  and  scenery.  Hal 
went  there  yesterday  to  look  at  the  goods.  We 
can  get  cambric  a  yard  wide  for  five  cents.  They 
have  it  in  all  colors.  We  have  decided  on  dark 
brown  for  the  front  curtain,  gray  for  the  back 
drop,  and  dark  green  for  the  wings. 

I  didn't  quite  understand  what  the  wings  were, 
but  Hal  got  the  "Hints  to  Amateur  Thespians," 
and  explained  them  to  me  yesterday.  The  wings 
are  single  Uttle  screens  three  feet  wide  and  six 
feet  high.    You  put  three  on  each  side.    They 


56  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

are  set  front  side  to  the  audience,  but  turned  so 
that  they  slant  a  little  toward  the  back  drop. 
They  are  placed  about  three  feet  apart,  leaving 
a  space  for  the  actors  to  go  in  and  out. 

We  need  quite  a  few  long,  narrow  strips  of  wood 
to  use  in  making  the  frames  for  the  wings,  and 
for  various  other  uses  about  the  Barnville,  so 
Larry  and  John  are  going  to  the  planing-mill  to- 
morrow and  get  a  quarter's  worth  of  edgings. 
Edgings  are  what  they  cut  off  the  edges  of  boards 
when  they  plane  them,  and  are  nice,  long  strips, 
just  a  bit  rough  on  one  side. 

Well,  I  guess  we  really  are  going  to  give  a 
show!  And  have  a  theatre,  too!  All  I  can  say 
is  that  I  am  glad.  We  never  have  had  so  much 
fun  out  of  anything  before — tree-houses,  caves  in 
the  clay-bank,  the  fort  in  the  lime-kiln,  or  any- 
thing at  all! 


CHAPTER  V 

Sunday,  March  12. 

We  have  done  a  great  deal  in  the  last  few  days. 
The  Barnville  is  almost  a  theatre.  Of  course,  it 
hasn't  lights  nor  seats  yet,  but  it  has  a  curtain 
now,  and  scenery,  and  those  go  a  long  way  to- 
ward making  it  seem  hke  a  real  theatre. 

We  bought  the  cambric  for  the  curtain  and 
scenery  Friday  afternoon  after  school.  We  all 
went  together  to  the  Bee  Hive  store,  and  Hal, 
who  had  been  there  before  to  look  at  the  stuff, 
did  the  buying.  We  had  figured  out  just  how 
much  we  needed,  and  knew  the  colors  we  wanted, 
and  all,  so  we  went  right  to  Miss  Peterson,  whose 
mother  does  sewing  at  our  house  sometimes,  and 
she  waited  on  us. 

She  was  quite  interested  when  we  began  to 
buy  all  those  yards  and  yards  of  cambric,  and  of 
course  she  wanted  to  know  what  it  was  all  for. 
So  we  told  her  we  were  going  to  give  a  play  in 

57 


58  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

a  real  theatre  we  were  making  out  of  our  bam, 
and  she  was  more  interested  than  ever,  and  we 
had  to  tell  her  all  about  it. 

Then  Mr.  Vamer  came  along — ^he's  a  man  clerk, 
and  manager,  or  something  Uke  that,  of  the  store. 
He  looks  as  if  he  had  just  got  a  bad  pain  in  his 
stomach.  He  wanted  to  know  of  Miss  Peterson 
why  she  was  wasting  so  much  time  on  a  bunch 
of  kids  when  there  were  customers  waiting;  and 
she  said  she  guessed  she  wasn^t  wasting  it,  we 
were  buying  a  lot  of  stuff;  and  then  he  looked 
as  if  the  pain  in  his  stomach  had  grown  much 
worse,  and  he  turned  around  and  went  off  with- 
out saying  anything. 

When  he  was  gone  we  all  laughed,  and  Miss 
Peterson  laughed  and  made  a  face  after  him. 

Hal  said.  Gee,  he  was  a  crummy  one ;  and 
Miss  Peterson  laughed,  and  said  she  guessed  Hal 
had  it  down  right,  and  some  folks  were  just  natch- 
ully  bom  with  mean  dispositions,  and  it  was  awful 
what  a  lady  in  a  store  had  to  put  up  with. 

While  she  was  measuring  out  those  thirty-one 
yards  of  cambric  we  told  her  all  about  "The  Cap- 
tive of  Castile,"  and  who  was  going  to  play  the 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  59 

different  parts,  and  how  we  were  planning  to  fix 
up  the  Barnville. 

She  said  it  was  just  too  cute  for  anything,  and 
she  and  her  ma  would  surely  come  to  see  the 
play.  She  said  she  thought  I  would  make  an 
awfully  sweet  girl — and  I  got  red  in  the  face,  and 
we  all  laughed. 

Well,  finally  she  did  the  cambric  up  in  three 
big  bundles,  and  we  started  off  home  with  it. 

When  we  came  out  of  the  store.  Hen  Perkins, 
one  of  that  West-End  gang,  saw  us,  and  said  to 
Pete  McGann,  who  is  another  West-Ender: 
"Look,  Pete,  the  Httle  darHngs  have  been  shop- 
ping for  their  mammas." 

Hal  and  Larry  were  for  stopping  right  there 
and  cleaning  up  the  pair,  but  John  said  no,  it 
wasn't  the  thing  to  do,  that  fighting  on  the  pub- 
lic square  was  bad  form.  Which  was  true,  but 
I  wish  we'd  had  that  pair  in  the  Barnville! 

Hal  said,  loud  enough  for  them  to  hear,  that  he 
should  think  that  as  long  as  our  End  could  put  it 
all  over  a  certain  football  team,  that  certain  par- 
ties ought  not  to  get  too  smart. 

Something  might  have  happened,  only  Timmy 


6o  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

McManus  came  along  just  then.  He's  the  town 
marshal,  and  he  had  on  his  new  uniform  with 
brass  buttons  down  the  front  and  a  big  star  on 
the  breast.  Pete  and  Hen  turned  their  backs 
and  began  pointing  to  the  fish  that  is  the  weather- 
vane  on  top  of  the  court-house,  and  we  went  on 
down  the  street. 

When  we  reached  home  we  took  our  bundles 
to  the  kitchen,  where  mother  helped  us  cut  the 
brown  cambric  into  three  ten-foot  lengths.  Then 
we  took  it  up  to  the  sewing  room,  and  she  showed 
us  how  to  run  the  straight  seams  on  the  sewing- 
machine,  and  stayed  with  us  till  we  had  the  two 
long  seams  all  done.  Then  she  said  we  must  hem 
the  edges,  so  that  they  wouldn't  ravel  out,  and 
we  did  that.  It  was  supper  time  when  we  had 
finished  the  hems,  so  we  couldn't  do  any  more. 

That  evening  I  went  over  to  Hal's  and  John's, 
and  Larry  came  over,  too,  and  we  talked  about 
how  we  would  fix  the  curtain  to  pull  up  and 
down. 

The  "Hints  to  Amateur  Thespians"  shows 
three  ways  you  can  do  it,  but  we  figured  out  still 
a  better  way  for  the  Barnville. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  6i 

The  next  morning — Saturday — Hal  came  over 
as  soon  as  he  had  had  breakfast,  and  we  sewed 
the  seams  in  the  back  drop. 

We  had  just  finished  when  John  and  Larry 
came.  They  had  been  down-town  buying  a  ball 
of  heavy  cord,  some  small  brass  rings,  and  four 
pulleys,  all  of  which  we  needed  for  the  curtain. 

We  wanted  to  see  it  up  so  badly  that  we  could 
hardly  wait;  so  we  hurried  down  to  the  bam  and 
started  to  work. 

But  it  took  us  all  the  rest  of  the  morning  to 
get  that  curtain  in  working  order.  First  we 
found  we  had  no  tacks,  and  I  couldn't  find  any 
at  the  house;  so  Larry  had  to  go  home  for  them. 
Then  sewing  on  the  brass  rings  took  a  long  time. 
We  had  to  sew  on  four  rows  of  them,  with  twelve 
rings  to  each  row.  Putting  them  on  was  a  good 
deal  like  work.  Each  of  us  sewed  a  row,  and  we 
ran  a  race  to  see  who  could  get  his  row  on  first. 
Each  ring  had  to  be  sewed  on  good  and  tight, 
and  at  just  the  right  place.  Not  being  girls,  we 
couldn't  sew  well.  I  stuck  my  fingers  till  they 
bled,  and  John  had  a  worse  time  yet  and  said 
several  things  he  should  not  have  said. 


62  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Finally  we  did  get  them  all  sewed  on  though — 
a  row  up  each  side,  and  two  rows,  three  feet 
apart,  up  the  middle.  Hal  came  out  ahead  in 
the  race,  but  John  said  he  hadn't  sewed  his  rings 
on  tight  enough,  and  they  nearly  had  a  scrap. 

We  marked  either  side  of  the  stage  opening, 
which  is  about  nine  and  a  half  feet  wide,  with 
strips  of  edging,  which  run  up  to  a  beam  nine 
feet  from  the  floor.  That  makes  our  stage  open- 
ing nine  and  a  half  by  nine  feet.  The  spaces  at 
either  side  we  intend  to  fill  in  with  old  wall- 
paper, or  some  old  curtains. 

From  the  beam  above  the  stage,  and  just  inside 
the  two  strips  running  to  the  floor,  we  stretched 
two  heavy  wires,  one  on  each  side,  and  threaded 
them  through  the  two  rows  of  rings  on  the  out- 
side edges  of  the  curtain.  Meanwhile,  Hal  got 
a  step-ladder  and  cHmbed  up  to  where  he  could 
tack  the  top  edge  of  the  curtain  to  the  beam. 
Then  we  cut  the  heavy  cord  into  two  equal  lengths 
and  tied  one  to  each  of  the  bottom  rings  of  the 
inside  rows,  running  the  cords  on  up  through  the 
rings  to  the  top  of  the  curtain.  Hal  was  up  on 
the  step-ladder  putting  the  pulleys  in  place  while 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  63 

we  were  fixing  the  cords,  so  that  by  the  time  we 
had  that  done,  he  was  ready  to  put  the  cords 
through  the  pulley-wheels. 

We  were  all  as  excited  as  if  that  curtain  was 
the  first  one  ever  hung.  Hal  jumped  down  from 
the  ladder  and  took  the  two  cord  ends  in  his 
hands.  He  pulled — and  the  curtain  went  up! 
It  looped  itself  into  nice  folds,  and  looked  so  fine 
we  all  cheered.  I  think  we  never  realized  what 
the  Barnstormers  meant  to  all  of  us  till  we  saw 
that  curtain  go  up ! 

We  pulled  it  up  and  let  it  down  a  dozen  times, 
and  patted  each  other  on  the  back,  and  were  just 
crazy — we  were  so  happy. 

Then  Hal  put  up  the  other  two  pulleys  at  the 
back  of  the  stage  so  that  the  curtain  could  be 
worked  from  back  there,  and  when  we  got  that 
done,  we  each  had  to  try  working  the  curtain 
again.  Three  of  us  would  sit  out  in  front,  and 
the  other  fellow  would  work  the  curtain  from 
behind,  so  that  we  could  all  see  how  it  looked. 

We  were  going  to  give  another  show  Hke  the 
Western  play  we  gave  last  Saturday,  because  we 
wanted  to  see  how  a  show  would  go  when  we  had 


64  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

a  real  curtain  to  raise  and  lower.  Only,  just 
when  we  were  going  to  start  on  the  first  act,  the 
noon  whistles  blew  and  we  all  had  to  hurry  home 
to  dinner. 

We  were  back  by  a  quarter  of  one.  We  just 
couldn't  stay  away.  The  first  thing  we  did  was 
to  put  up  the  back  drop.  That  was  easy,  for  we 
tacked  it  to  a  cross-beam,  and  that  was  all  we  had 
to  do.  But  when  it  came  to  the  wings,  we  had 
quite  a  Httle  job  ahead  of  us. 

We  intended  at  first  to  make  a  frame  for  each 
wing  and  cover  it  with  the  cloth.  But  Larry 
had  an  idea  that  saved  us  a  great  deal  of  work, 
and  made  it  possible  to  get  the  wings  in  place 
much  sooner  than  if  we  had  made  the  frames  as 
we  originally  intended.  He  said  that  all  we 
needed  to  do  was  to  put  a  strip  three  feet  wide  at 
the  top,  and  another  one  the  same  width  at  the 
bottom,  and  then  hang  the  wings  from  a  wire 
stretched  tight  along  the  side  of  the  stage  from 
front  to  back.  If  we  needed  to  do  so,  we  could 
nail  the  bottom  strip  of  each  wing  to  the  floor, 
or  we  could  leave  it  free  so  that  it  could  be  rolled 
up  out  of  the  way  when  not  in  use. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  65 

We  all  thought  Larry's  idea  a  good  one,  and 
so  decided  not  to  make  frames  for  the  wings. 
Of  course  we  were  able  to  get  them  up  in  half 
the  time.  By  three  o'clock  we  had  all  of  them  in 
place.  They  made  the  stage-setting  complete — 
except  for  one  thing.  We  needed  what  the 
"Hints"  calls  a  sky  border — a  strip  of  cloth  to 
hang  overhead  across  the  stage,  and  to  look  Hke 
the  ceiHng,  or  the  sky,  as  the  case  might  be.  Also, 
in  the  Barnville,  a  sky  border  will  serve  to  hide 
the  rafters,  and  the  ropes  that  work  the  curtain. 

But  we  were  all  too  tired  to  bother  with  it  then, 
so  we  sat  around  admiring  the  Barnville,  and 
finally  rehearsed  the  acts  of  the  play  we  knew, 
just  to  see  how  they  would  go  on  our  real  stage 
with  its  real  scenery  and  curtain. 

Of  course,  we  did  much  better  than  ever  before. 
We  felt  that  we  had  to  do  better.  Our  show  will 
have  to  live  up  to  the  Barnville. 

None  of  us  have  been  able  to  stay  away  from 
the  Barnville  to-day.  I  went  down  after  din- 
ner this  afternoon,  and  I  hadn't  been  there  long 
till  Hal  came,  and  then  Larry,  and  then  John.  We 
just  sat  around  and  talked  the  whole  afternoon. 


66  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

We  talked  about  how  we  could  improve  the 
Barnville  later  on  when  we  had  made  some  money 
from  plays,  and  about  what  other  plays  we  could 
give,  and  how  we  would  light  the  stage,  and  the 
properties  we  would  use  in  the  different  acts  of 
"The  Captive  of  Castile."  We  were  all  surprised 
when  it  began  to  get  dark  outside,  and  we  knew 
it  was  time  to  go  home. 

Tuesday,  March  14. 

Rehearsals  are  going  much  better  now  that  we 
have  a  regular  stage.  We  are  more  serious  about 
our  rehearsing,  too.  Hal  got  a  book  in  the  li- 
brary that  tells  something  about  acting,  and  we 
have  all  read  parts  of  it,  and  are  trying  to  do  some 
of  the  things  it  says.  Of  course,  it's  a  terribly 
hard  book  to  understand,  for  us,  at  least,  but  I 
think  it  has  helped  us  some. 

It  talks  about  "getting  under  the  skin"  of  a 
character,  and  "intensifying  real  life  for  the  pur- 
poses of  art,"  and  other  things  that  are  beyond 
me. 

Hal  made  up  his  mind  he  would  understand 
some  of  it,  though,  so  he  took  the  book  to  one  of 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  67 

the  English  teachers  in  the  high  school — a  fellow 
his  brother  knew  in  college — and  this  Mr.  Scotney 
explained  a  lot  of  it,  and  told  Hal  lots  of  other 
things  about  acting,  too.  Now  Hal  thinks  he 
knows  a  great  deal  about  it,  and  I  suppose  he 
does. 

He  says  that  we  must  do  a  lot  of  things  when 
we  act  if  we  want  the  audience  to  enjoy  our  act- 
ing. We  must  be  careful  to  say  our  lines  in  a 
way  that  will  make  them  sound  as  if  they  came 
from  the  inside  of  us,  and  weren't  just  learned 
and  said  off.  And  then  we  have  to  try  to  feel 
just  as  we  think  the  person  we  are  supposed  to  be 
would  feel  when  the  things  that  happen  in  the 
play  happen  to  him.  Besides  that  there  is  a  great 
deal  more  that  I  don't  remember. 

But  it  looks  as  though  we  were  going  to  give  a 
real  play  and  be  real  amateur  Thespians!  Who 
would  ever  have  thought  we  could?  All  our 
fathers  and  mothers  are  interested,  and  some  of 
the  other  people  in  the  neighborhood,  too.  I 
guess  we  will  have  a  crowd  all  right  when  the  time 
comes  for  our  play. 

None  of  the  other  boys  at  school  have  seen  the 


68  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Bamville  yet.  We  don't  want  them  bothering 
around.  John  and  Hal  and  Larry  and  I  have  been 
such  good  friends  always  that  we  haven't  many 
real  good  friends  besides,  so  there  aren't  many 
fellows  we  want  aroimd  when  we  are  making  a 
theatre  and  getting  ready  to  give  a  play.  Later, 
just  before  vacation,  Hal  says  he  is  going  to  ask 
up  several  of  the  boys  and  show  them  the  Barn- 
ville.  He  thinks  it  will  be  a  good  advertisement 
for  the  show.  We  are  going  to  give  a  school- 
children's  matinee,  just  Uke  the  shows  that  come 
to  the  Opera  House.  It  will  bring  in  a  little  money 
and  be  good  practice.  We  will  charge  just  two 
cents  for  the  matin6e,  but  the  evening  prices  will 
be  five. 
Three  weeks  now  imtil  the  show! 


CHAPTER  VI 

Sunday,  March  19. 

Busy  days!  But  we  are  having  the  time  of 
our  lives.  I  never  had  so  much  fun  out  of  any- 
thing as  I  am  having  out  of  the  Barnstormers. 

Some  of  the  costumes  are  all  ready  now,  and 
they  are  quite  fine,  and  we  look  very  fine  in  them, 
too.  John  has  a  doublet  made  of  red  cambric 
slashed  with  yellow,  and  a  yellow  tunic  to  go 
with  it  that  is  trimmed  in  red.  Then  he  wears 
an  old  black-velvet  cape  that  he  found  at  home 
in  the  attic.  He  says  he  thinks  it  was  his  Aunt 
Ella's — she  died — ^but  he  guesses  it  isn't  haunted. 
His  rig  is  completed  by  a  very  fine  sword  that  be- 
longs to  his  father.  It  is  a  Knight  Templar  sword, 
I  think,  or  else  Knights  of  Pythias,  or  some- 
thing like  that.  For  tights  he  wears  long  black 
stockings — I  nearly  forgot  to  mention  those.  His 
make-up  is  fine.    He  has  a  little  mustache  that 

glues  on,  and  also  a  little  goatee  for  his  chin.    He 

69 


70  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

has  a  "Tarn  o'  Shanter"  cap  made  out  of  red 
stuff  and  ornamented  with  an  old  ostrich-plume. 
He  is  very  heroic  when  he  gets  all  of  his  costume 
on,  and  struts  about  saying  his  Unes. 

Hal  wears  black  because  he's  the  villain.  The 
villains  in  plays  that  come  to  the  Opera  House  al- 
ways wear  black  and  smoke  cigarettes.  Of  course, 
Hal  doesn't  smoke,  but  he  wears  black,  and  has 
a  droopy  black  mustache,  and  hisses  when  he 
speaks.  His  doublet  and  tunic  are  of  black  cam- 
bric, and  he  wears  black  stockings  for  tights  just 
as  John  does.  Then,  since  he  and  John  are  never 
on  at  the  same  time,  he  wears  the  black  velvet 
cape  that  goes  with  John's  costume. 

Larry  has  two  costiunes — one  for  Selim  and 
one  for  Hernando.  As  Selim,  he  wears  a  doublet 
and  timic  of  gray  cambric  with  black  stockings 
for  tights.  Hernando  is  a  priest,  and  we  had 
some  trouble  in  finding  how  to  fix  him  up.  Larry 
was  for  asking  Father  O'Connor  to  give  us  one 
of  his  old  robes,  but,  since  none  of  us  belongs  to 
his  church,  we  thought  better  of  doing  it.  Any- 
way, I  don't  suppose  priests  dressed  then  like 
they  do  now.    We  didn't  quite  know  what  to  do 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  71 

about  it,  but  mother  said  she  thought  she  could 
make  us  the  right  sort  of  a  robe  for  Hernando, 
so  we  left  it  to  her.  It  is  made  out  of  brown 
burlap  and  has  a  hood  that  can  be  pulled  down 
almost  over  your  face  or  thrown  back  like  the 
hood  to  a  golf  cape.  Around  the  waist  it  is  tied 
with  a  piece  of  rope,  and  from  this  hangs  a  string 
of  wooden  beads  with  a  wooden  crucifix  on  one 
end.  Mother  said  he  should  wear  sandals,  but 
we  haven't  been  able  to  fix  those  yet. 

Larry  says  he  is  sure  he  will  grin  all  the  time, 
and  he  doesn't  think  that  will  go  very  well  with 
being  a  priest.  Still,  everybody  who  knows  Larry 
will  know  he  just  can't  help  grinning,  and  let  it 
go  at  that. 

I  nearly  forgot  my  own  costume!  It's  quite 
the  finest  of  the  lot,  too.  Mother  made  me  a 
dress  out  of  that  old  party  dress  of  Aunt  Meta's 
I  spoke  of  before.  It  is  blue  satin  and  has  a 
long  train  that  I  fall  over  when  I  walk.  Hal 
says  I'll  have  to  practise  a  lot  or  everybody  will 
laugh  at  me.  I  don't  care.  They  know  I'm  not 
a  girl,  an)rway,  just  as  they  know  Larry  can't 
help  grinning,  and  they  won't  expect  me  to  trail 


72  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

around  in  a  long  train  just  as  if  I'd  done  it  all 
my  life!  When  I^m  lost  in  the  woods  in  the  first 
act  I  wear  a  dark-red  kimono  over  my  blue  dress 
and  have  on  a  black  scarf  that  almost  hides  my 
face.  Then  in  one  act,  the  one  where  I  steal  the 
death-warrant  from  under  Bernardo^s  pillow,  I 
wear  a  nightgown  with  the  red  kimono  over  it. 
When  I  go  to  Ernesfs  cell  disguised  as  a  slave 
girl  I  am  to  wear  a  pink  dress  of  some  sort  of 
cotton  stuff.  Mother  is  making  it  for  me  out 
of  an  old  dress  of  hers.  Then  I  wear  a  veil  in 
that  act,  too.  It  doesn't  come  all  over  my  face — 
just  across  my  nose,  like  those  in  the  pictures 
you  see  of  Turkish  ladies.  It  has  to  be  fixed  so 
that  it  will  fall  off  when  I  turn  to  leave,  and  we 
are  going  to  have  a  string  underneath  that  I  can 
pull  to  make  the  veil  fall. 

I  have  a  wig,  too!  We  were  going  to  make  it 
out  of  brown  burlap  ravelled  out,  but  mother  had 
a  lot  of  old  combings,  and  we  washed  those  and 
straightened  them  out  and  sewed  them  on  to  a 
little  pink  skull-cap  made  just  to  fit  my  head. 

We  are  going  to  make  up  our  faces,  too,  just 
like  they  do  in  plays  at  the  Opera  House.    You 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  73 

put  black  lines  under  your  eyelashes  and  a  little 
red  on  your  lips  and  cheeks,  and  if  you're  sup- 
posed to  be  old  you  make  some  lines  for  wrinkles. 

Hal  and  I  tried  making  up  yesterday  afternoon. 
We  used  our  water-color  paints — they  are  the  kind 
that  say  "non-poisonous"  on  the  box — and  we 
fixed  ourselves  up  as  we  thought  we  should  look 
in  the  play.  Hal  put  a  great  deal  of  black  around 
his  eyes,  so  that  they  looked  quite  simken  and 
bright.  I  put  Hght  lines  of  black  imder  my  lashes 
and  lots  of  red  on  my  lips  and  cheeks.  We  did 
look  funny!  But  when  we  stood  off  and  looked 
at  each  other  the  effect  was  fine — at  least  Hal 
looked  just  like  I  should  think  a  villain  ought, 
and  he  said  I  was  quite  the  proper  thing  for  a 
leading  lady. 

We  gave  another  make-believe  show  yesterday 
morning  after  we  had  finished  the  rehearsal  of  the 
first  six  scenes  of  the  play.  This  one  was  better 
than  the  first  because  we  had  a  real  stage  and 
scenery.  We  called  it  "Susie,  the  Milkmaid." 
It  was  a  Down-East  drama,  like  "  The  Old  Home- 
stead." Larry  saw  "The  Old  Homestead"  when 
he  visited  his  cousin  in  the  city  at  Christmas 


74  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

time.  None  of  the  rest  of  us  had  seen  it,  but  we 
could  imagine  what  ''Susie,  the  Milkmaid" 
should  be  like  after  Larry  had  told  us  all  about 
"The  Old  Homestead." 

Most  of  our  play  takes  place  on  a  farm,  but 
one  act  is  in  New  York  City.  I  wish  we  could 
write  it  out,  but  that  would  be  too  much  trouble. 
We  thought  it  was  a  mighty  good  play,  though, 
when  we  gave  it. 

I  was  the  heroine  and  Hal  the  villain — a  brand- 
new  kind  of  villain,  too.  John  was  the  hero,  who 
is  a  country  boy  whose  father  owns  a  store.  Larry 
was  the  father;  also,  he  played  the  part  of  the 
old  farmer  for  whom  Susie  worked. 

The  story  is  something  like  this:  Susie,  the 
milkmaid,  comes  in  from  milking  the  cows  and 
has  a  love-scene  with  Lijy,  who  is  the  hero.  The 
old  farmer  Susie  works  for  finds  Lijy  making 
love  to  Susie,  and  he  gets  mad  and  says.  Gosh 
duml  Sech  things  can't  happen  'round  his  place. 
And  Lijy  goes  off  feeUng  sore,  but  still  very  much 
in  love  with  Susie.  Then  the  villain,  who  is  a 
drummer  from  the  city,  comes  to  Squire  Weather- 
bee^s  farm — the  Squire  is  the  one  Susie  works  for 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  75 

— and  this  drummer,  Mr.  James  Arnold,  wants  to 
get  Susie  out  of  the  way  because  he  is  in  love 
with  her  cruel  stepmother,  who  is  a  widow,  and 
these  two  want  to  get  all  the  money  that  really 
belongs  to  Susie.  So  Mr.  James  Arnold  tries  to 
lure  Susie  to  the  city,  but  she  won't  lure  worth  a 
cent,  and  Lijy  tells  him  he'd  better  leave  her  alone, 
because  she's  his  girl,  and  they  'most  get  into  a 
fight,  but  Squire  Weatherbee  stops  them.  Then 
Mr.  James  Arnold  robs  the  store  and  makes  it 
look  like  Lijy  had  done  it.  So  Lijy  has  to  flee. 
Susie  knows  he  is  innocent,  and  she  loves  him  so 
much  she  goes  after  him.  But  she  can't  find  him, 
even  though  she  looks  all  night  and  nearly  dies 
in  a  snow-storm.  When  she  gets  back  to  the 
Squire's  he's  awful  mad,  because  he  had  to  milk 
the  cows,  and  he  says  she  is  an  ungrateful  girl 
and  turns  her  out  in  the  snow.  The  villain  pur- 
sues her  to  a  place  where  they  keep  dynamite  for 
a  quarry,  and  is  going  to  blow  her  up,  but  she 
escapes  just  in  time.  The  next  act  is  in  New 
York  City.  Lijy  has  gone  there  to  look  for  work, 
but  he  can't  get  any,  and  he  tries  to  drown  his 
sorrows  in  drink.    He  is  rescued  by  the  Salva- 


76  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

tion  Army,  and  his  father  comes  after  him  and 
forgives  him.  They  get  home,  and  Susie,  who 
has  been  an  outcast,  meets  them  at  the  train. 
Just  then  the  villain  shows  up  again  and  tries  to 
get  Lijy  arrested.  But  Lijy^s  father  now  knows 
the  truth,  and  he  says,  "There  is  the  real  thief!" — 
and  Mr.  James  Arnold  gets  arrested  and  sent 
to  the  lockup,  and  Susie  and  Lijy  are  married, 
and  Susie  gets  all  the  money  that  is  really  hers, 
and  they  buy  a  farm  and  live  happy  ever  after. 

Thursday,  March  23. 

We  know  all  the  play  now  and  have  rehearsed 
every  act — not  all  of  them  at  one  time  yet,  but 
two  or  three  every  afternoon.  Saturday  we  will 
rehearse  the  whole  play. 

John  and  I  have  had  trouble  doing  our  love- 
making  scenes  as  they  should  be  done.  John 
says  it's  no  fun  making  love  to  a  boy.  In  the 
last  act  where  he  is  supposed  to  embrace  me,  he 
comes  at  me  Hke  we  were  playing  football,  and 
I  had  the  ball,  and  he  was  going  to  tackle  me. 
Hal  says  it  isn't  at  all  artistic,  whatever  that  is. 
Hal  thinks  he  knows  how  it  should  be  done,  so 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  77 

he  tried  to  show  us  yesterday.  He  says  Ernest 
should  put  one  arm  around  Zara^s  waist  and  the 
other  under  her  far  arm,  and  draw  her  tenderly 
toward  him,  looking  down  lovingly  into  her  face. 
She  should  put  one  arm  aroimd  his  neck  and 
let  the  other  go  about  his  shoulders  as  he  draws 
her  toward  him.  Then  she  should  bury  her  head 
on  his  manly  bosom  for  a  moment  and  finally 
turn  her  face  up  to  be  kissed.  All  this  should 
take  place  with  the  two  turned  sideways  to  the 
audience  so  that  both  can  be  seen.  I  know  that 
is  the  way  they  do  it  in  shows  at  the  Opera  House, 
and  all  of  our  best  noveUsts  end  up  their  books 
that  way.  But  wouldn't  it  give  you  a  pain? 
Rot !  If  it  wasn't  for  the  love-making,  plays  would 
be  a  great  deal  easier  to  do  and  not  half  so  silly. 

Hal  played  Ernest  for  a  few  minutes  yesterday, 
and  showed  John  how  all  the  above  was  done. 
Larry  lay  over  in  one  comer  laughing  at  us  as 
though  the  thing  was  the  funniest  ever.  I 
couldn't  see  any  fun  in  it.  But  I  suppose  it  did 
look  queer  to  see  Hal  and  me  up  there  hugging  each 
other. 

Then  John  tried,  and  did  a  little  better.    At 


78  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

least  it  wasn't  quite  so  much  like  a  tackle  as  the 
way  he  did  it  at  first.  But  I'm  here  to  tell  any 
one  no  girl  would  ever  stand  for  the  kind  of  love- 
making  poor  Zara  gets! 

We  have  fixed  the  Hghts  for  the  Bamville  and 
can  now  use  it  at  night.  We  thought  of  candles 
first,  but  they  cost  money,  and  our  Httle  pile  is 
about  all  gone.  So  each  of  us  brought  over  all  the 
old  lamps  we  could  get  at  home.  We  filled  each 
lamp  before  we  brought  it  to  the  Barnville,  be- 
cause we  don't  want  to  spend  any  money  on  coal- 
oil.  We  have  ten  lamps  and  a  lantern.  The 
lantern  hangs  down-stairs  so  that  people  can  see 
to  get  into  the  Barnville.  One  lamp  is  on  a 
bracket  over  the  stairway.  Another  lamp  fights 
the  part  where  the  audience  is  to  sit.  Six  of 
them  serve  as  footHghts.  We  made  tin  reflectors 
for  these  out  of  bright  new  tin  we  got  at  Mr. 
Mooney's — he  is  the  tin  man — down-town.  The 
other  two  Hghts  are  at  either  side  of  the  stage 
behind  the  first  wings.  They  have  tin  reflectors, 
too.  They  Hght  the  sides  of  the  stage  and  the 
part  where  we  must  wait  for  our  cues  to  enter. 

The  dressing-rooms  are  down-stairs  in  the  old 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  79 

horse  stalls.  We  have  swept  them  out  nice  and 
clean  and  fixed  them  up  the  best  we  could. 
Since  there  are  four  of  them,  each  of  us  has 
his  own  dressing-room.  Each  dressing-room  has 
some  nails  driven  in  the  wall  to  hang  clothes  on, 
and  ^r4)ox  to  serve  as  a  dressing-table  with  an  old 
mirror  hung  above  it.  We  have  begged  candle- 
ends  enough  to  give  us  plenty  of  light. 

To  get  from  the  dressing-rooms  to  the  up-stairs, 
you  cHmb  a  ladder  that  leads  up  the  hay  chute. 
That  makes  it  so  we  don't  have  to  go  up  the  same 
stairway  the  audience  use.  The  chute  comes  out 
at  one  side  of  the  stage  back  of  the  wings.  Hal 
says  it  is  a  shame  it  doesn't  come  out  on  the  stage, 
for  then  we  could  use  it  for  a  trap-door  and  have 
people  disappear  into  the  ground.  But  we  don't 
need  any  mysterious  disappearances  in  "The  Cap- 
tive of  Castile,"  so  I  guess  it  is  a  good  thing  the 
chute  comes  out  off  the  stage.  Some  of  us  would 
be  sure  to  tumble  down  it  at  the  wrong  time  if 
it  was  on  the  stage.  We  have  put  a  raiHng  around 
it  to  prevent  any  one  from  going  down  it  except 
when  they  want  to. 

We  have  two  rows  of  seats  put  in  already,  and 


8o  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

we  hope  to  get  the  others  in  soon.  We  are  a 
Uttle  short  on  boards,  but  Hal  says  we  can  beg 
or  borrow — or  find  some  just  lying  around.  The 
trouble  is  that  we  need  good  ones — nice  clean 
ones — that  people  will  not  be  afraid  to  sit  on. 
We  have  had  no  difl&culty  getting  boxes.  Larry's 
uncle  runs  a  grocery  store,  and  he  lets  Larry  have 
all  the  boxes  he  wants. 

The  time  for  the  play  is  getting  nearer  and 
nearer.  Next  week  is  the  last  before  vacation. 
We  have  examinations  at  school,  so  we  are  not 
planning  to  do  much  to  the  Barnville.  Saturday, 
April  I,  however,  we  will  give  a  school-chil- 
dren's matinee.  No  grown-up  people  will  be  al- 
lowed unless  they  are  especially  asked  to  come. 
The  matinee  will  be  a  trial  performance  for  us, 
and  the  real  show  will  come  the  following  Wednes- 
day night.  It  is  getting  so  close  that  we  are 
coimting  the  days. 


CHAPTER  VII 

Sunday^  March  26. 

Yesterday  was  a  busy  day  for  the  Barnstorm- 
ers. As  I  said  before,  this  week  we  have  exam- 
inations at  school,  and  of  course  we  will  be  too 
busy  for  any  barnstorming.  So  yesterday  we 
had  a  rehearsal  of  the  whole  play,  at  which  we 
wore  our  costumes  and  had  the  stage  set  for 
each  act  just  about  as  it  will  be  on  the  night  of 
the  show.  We  will  not  try  to  have  any  rehears- 
als this  week  imtil  Friday  afternoon.  Saturday 
afternoon  comes  the  school-children^s  matinee, 
but  I  think  we  can  get  along  all  right  at  that, 
even  if  we  haven't  had  many  rehearsals  just  be- 
fore it.  Anyway,  it  doesn't  matter  if  we  do  make 
a  few  mistakes,  for  there  will  be  no  one  there  but 
kids. 

The  rehearsal  yesterday  went  very  well.    The 

scenes  looked  better  than  we  had  expected,  and 

our  acting  was  a  great  deal  better  than  ever  be- 

81 


82  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

fore.  We  made  fewer  mistakes,  and  we  were  all 
quite  serious,  without  any  of  the  usual  monkey- 
business  that  has  spoiled  so  many  of  our  rehears- 
als.   John  quite  approved  of  us. 

The  first  scene  is  in  a  forest.  That  is  the  only 
one  we  didn't  have  fixed  just  as  it  will  be  for  the 
show.  We  are  going  to  bank  the  stage  with  ever- 
green boughs  then,  and  we  want  them  to  be  nice 
and  fresh,  so  we  were  afraid  to  cut  them  this 
far  ahead  of  time.  But  we  have  the  scene  all 
planned,  and  we  know  it  is  going  to  look  good. 
I  think  we  can  make  the  stage  quite  like  a  forest 
with  big  boughs  set  all  around,  and  a  few  small 
evergreen  trees  standing  up  just  as  though  they 
were  growing  out  of  the  ground.  We  are  going 
to  scatter  dead  leaves  around  over  the  floor,  too, 
and  then  when  you  walk  across  the  stage  you  can 
hear  them  crunch  up  under  your  feet,  just  as  they 
do  out  in  the  woods. 

We  have  a  big  forked  branch  of  a  tree  that 
we  use  for  a  seat  in  this  first  scene.  When  you 
turn  it  so  that  the  end  and  the  two  forks  rest  on 
the  floor  you  have  a  seat  just  the  right  height  for 
Zara  to  sit  on  while  she  and  Ernest  are  talking. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  83 

We  really  wanted  a  log,  but  we  couldn't  find  any 
logs  lying  around  in  the  woods  that  were  light 
enough  to  carry  away. 

The  second  scene  is  a  room  in  Bernardo^ s  house. 
That  is  easy  to  fix — much  easier  than  the  forest. 
But  I  am  afraid  there  will  be  quite  a  long  wait 
between  the  first  and  second  scenes.  We  will 
have  to  get  all  those  evergreen  boughs  out  of 
the  way,  and  sweep  the  stage,  and  then  bring  in 
all  the  things  we  use  in  the  second  scene.  For 
the  room  scene  we  use  the  gray  back  drop  and  the 
green  wings.  Against  the  back  drop  is  a  long 
seat,  made  from  a  large  box  covered  with  an  old 
couch  cover.  Above  this  hangs  a  big  picture — 
one  of  those  old  chromo  affairs  that  look  like  oil- 
paintings.  This  one  shows  a  waterfall  in  the 
mountains,  with  a  sunset,  and  a  party  of  gypsies 
camped  around  a  fire.  Some  picture!  Larry 
found  it  in  the  attic  at  home.  At  the  left  side 
of  the  stage  is  a  small  table  on  which  we  are 
going  to  have  a  fancy  lamp  borrowed  for  the  night 
of  the  show.  Two  old  chairs,  and  some  cushions 
for  the  long  seat  at  the  back,  complete  the  prop- 
erties for  the  second  scene. 


84  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

While  I  am  talking  about  properties,  I  mustn't 
forget  to  put  down  that  Larry  is  now  the  prop- 
erty-man. He  feels  quite  important  about  it, 
too.  But  he  is  making  a  good  one,  so  he  can 
feel  just  as  important  as  he  wishes,  and  we  won't 
bother  him  about  it.  He  has  written  lists  of  the 
properties  we  use  in  each  scene.  He  keeps  these 
lists  down  in  his  dressing-room,  each  one  on  a 
separate  nail  in  the  wall.  The  night  of  the  show 
he  is  going  to  check  up  all  the  "props"  before 
the  curtain  goes  up  on  each  scene.  That  way 
there  will  be  no  chance  for  something  to  be  miss- 
ing. I  can  tell  you,  there's  some  system  to  the 
barnstorming  of  the  Barnstormers — thanks  to  the 
"Hints  to  Amateur  Thespians." 

The  third  scene  is  in  Ernesfs  cell  in  the  donjon. 
The  stage  is  bare  except  for  the  big  box  which 
served  as  a  seat  in  the  second  act.  We  take  the 
couch  cover  off  of  it  and  cover  it  with  straw  and 
it  becomes  Ernest^s  bed.  We  scatter  straw  on 
the  floor,  too,  because  in  all  the  stories  you  read 
of  heroes  being  imprisoned,  they  are  always  put 
into  cells  littered  with  dirty  straw.  Over  by  the 
bed  is  a  pitcher  of  water  and  a  crust  of  bread  on 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  85 

a  plate — which  are  all,  supposedly,  that  Ernest 
gets  for  food.  It  looks  hke  a  description  by  one 
of  our  best  novelists.  When  the  curtain  goes 
up  John  is  seated  on  the  bed  with  his  head 
bowed  on  his  heavily  manacled  hands.  Wo-0-0-0! 
Doesn't  that  sound  romantic?  The  audience  will 
surely  Hke  that  prison  scene.  It  is  to  be  all  dark, 
too,  except  for  a  "spot  light"  thrown  on  Ernest. 
The  "spot  light"  was  Larry's  idea.  He  saw 
Walker  Whitesides  in  "  Robert  of  Sicily  "  at  Christ- 
mas time,  and  he  said  that  when  the  stage  was 
dark  they  threw  a  bright  light  on  the  person  who 
was  acting.  So  we  brought  down  my  old  magic 
lantern  to  use  for  the  "spot  Hght,"  and  it  works 
to  perfection.  We  have  it  just  inside  the  front 
wing  on  the  right  side  of  the  stage,  and  from  there 
can  follow  John  about  with  a  patch  of  light  large 
enough  to  bring  out  his  figure.  When  Zara  comes 
in  they  act  together  nearly  all  the  time,  and  are 
both  in  the  bright  light.  I  think  the  " spot  light" 
will  make  quite  a  hit  with  the  audience.  Larry 
says  it  is  only  done  in  the  best  theatres,  and  for 
the  highest-priced  stars.  Well,  there's  nothing 
too  good  for  the  Barnstormers. 


86  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

The  handcuffs  John  wears  are  the  real  thing. 
Hal  got  them  from  Mr.  Bradford,  who  Hves  next 
door  to  them.  He  was  in  the  Civil  War — secret 
service,  or  something  like  that — and  he  has  a  big 
collection  of  handcuffs  and  old  pistols  and  gims 
that  he  captured.  The  pair  of  handcuffs  he  let 
us  have  are  all  rusty  and  old-looking,  and  cer- 
tainly show  they  have  been  used.  If  we  just  had 
a  ball  and  chain  and  could  chain  Ernest  down 
with  that,  he  would  look  hke  an  old-time  prisoner 
for  sure.  The  handcuffs  are  terribly  big  for  John — 
he  can  sHp  his  hands  right  through  them — ^but 
they  are  the  real  thing,  and  that  is  what  we  are 
after. 

The  fourth  scene  is  the  same  as  the  second. 

The  fifth  scene  is  Bernardo^s  bedroom,  or  his 
chamber,  as  it  calls  it  in  the  play.  The  stage  is 
to  be  quite  dark,  so  we  do  not  change  it  much 
from  the  scene  that  goes  before.  The  big  picture 
is  taken  down,  and  the  two  chairs  put  back 
against  the  wings,  while  the  table  is  put  near  the 
seat,  which  in  this  scene  serves  as  Bernardo^s 
bed.  Hal  lies  down  on  it,  and  we  cover  him  all 
up  so  that  he  looks  as  though  he  were  in  bed. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  87 

When  the  curtain  goes  up,  Zara  enters  carrying 
a  candle  with  a  red  shade.  She  puts  this  candle 
do^vn  on  the  table,  reaches  under  Bernardo^ s  pil- 
low and  gets  the  death-warrant,  and  then  slips 
away.  I  wanted  to  Hght  the  death-warrant  from 
the  candle,  and  then  burn  it  up  right  there  be- 
fore the  eyes  of  the  audience,  but  Hal  said  no, 
we'd  have  a  fire  and  a  panic,  or  maybe  a  panic 
without  the  fire,  and  it  would  be  a  second  Iro- 
quois disaster,  and  somebody  would  be  killed,  and 
goodness  knows  what  might  happen.  Then  I 
said  we  could  fix  up  a  brazier,  which  is  a  thing 
people  used  to  have  just  for  the  purpose  of  burn- 
ing up  death-warrants  and  such  things.  I  read 
about  oM  in  "Henry  Esmond."  It's  the  piil 
Where  the  Jesuit  burWs  lip  some  jpapers  before  hfe 
flees.  But  Hal  didn't  Hke  the  idea  of  that  either. 
He  said  that  if  I  was  burning  up  that  death-war- 
rant he  could  never  lay  there  and  pretend  to  be 
asleep.  He'd  just  have  to  look,  and  that  would 
spoil  the  show.  And  besides,  he  said,  no  one  could 
be  expected  to  sleep  with  a  death-warrant  being 
burned  up  in  his  bedroom,  right  under  his 
very  nose.    And  furthermore — ^it  wasn't  artistic! 


SS  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Whenever  Hal  can't  think  of  any  other  reason 
for  or  against  a  thing  he  wants  to  do,  or  does  not 
want  to  do,  as  the  case  may  be,  he  says  it  is  or 
it  is  not  artistic!  Piffle!  An3rway,  I'm  not  going 
to  bum  up  the  death-warrant.  Mrs.  Strong,  or 
somebody  else  with  nerves,  might  throw  a  fit  out 
in  the  audience  and  spoil  the  show. 

The  sixth  scene  is  the  same  as  the  second  and 
fifth.  It  is  the  one  where  Bernardo  finds  out 
about  the  death-warrant  and  gives  Zara  thunder 
about  it,  and  then  makes  her  take  that  vow  about 
never  wedding  anybody  but  one  of  her  own  race. 

The  seventh  scene  is  in  Hernando^s  cell — ^not 
a  prison  cell,  but  a  sort  of  little  chapel  where  the 
old  priest  goes  to  pray  and  meditate.  (That 
is  a  new  word  John  rung  in  on  us  at  rehearsal. 
The  dictionary  says  it  means  to  contemplate — 
looked  that  up,  too,  and  it  means  to  consider, 
or  think  studiously.  Poor  Larry!  He  says  he 
might  do  some  things,  but  he  was  never  built 
for  a  meditator.)  Well,  meditation  aside,  the 
seventh  scene  is  the  best  in  the  play.  It's  the 
most  interesting  to  hear,  too,  because  in  it  Zara 
learns  the  secret  of  her  fife,  and  the  vow  that 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  89 

has  stood  between  the  lovers  is  wiped  away.  For 
a  setting  we  use  the  gray  drop  and  wings,  and 
against  the  drop,  about  the  centre  of  the  stage, 
we  put  an  altar  made  of  two  boxes.  One  forms 
the  base,  while  the  other  is  the  altar  itself.  Over 
this  hangs  a  big  wooden  cross,  and  on  it  two 
candles  are  burning,  giving  out  the  only  Ught 
for  the  whole  scene.  When  the  curtain  goes  up 
Hernando  is  kneeKng  at  the  altar  in  prayer.  Then 
Zara  comes  in  and  tells  him  all  her  troubles. 
They  sit  on  the  box  forming  the  altar  base.  After 
Zara  has  told  him  about  her  love  for  Ernest  and 
the  vow  that  stands  between  them,  the  old 
priest  tells  her  the  secret  of  her  life — that  she  is 
not  really  Bernardo^s  daughter,  and  that  her 
father  was  an  EngHsh  lord. 

The  last  scene  is  the  same  as  the  second,  fourth, 
and  sixth.  Ernest  and  Zara  at  last  get  together 
and  live  happy  ever  after. 

Wednesday,  March  29. 

Exams!  I  haven't  dared  to  do  more  than  look 
into  the  Bamville  all  week.    I  have  to  make  good 


90  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

grades  in  all  my  studies,  or  I  can't  go  on  to  high 
school  next  year.  It  would  be  terrible  to  have  to 
come  back  into  the  eighth  grade  and  have  every- 
body know  that  you  hadn't  been  smart  enough 
to  get  through. 

I  am  here  to  tell  any  one  that  it  isn't  easy  to 
pass  examinations  on  arithmetic — all  about  men- 
suration, and  cord-wood,  and  how  many  cows 
somebody  has,  and  if  two  men  did  a  piece  of  work 
in  so  long,  how  many  hours  would  it  take  ten  men 
to  do  it — and  other  things  quite  as  silly.  I  sup- 
pose problems  Kke  that  are  necessary,  but  they 
don't  seem  to  be  so  to  me.  I  am  sure  I  don't 
care  how  long  it  takes  the  ten  men  to  do  the  work, 
or  how  many  cords  of  wood  A  has,  or  how  many 
cows  B  has,  if  he  gets  so  many  quarts  of  milk  a 
day,  and  half  the  cows  give  so  many  quarts,  and 
the  other  half  give  a  different  number.  They 
wouldn't  do  it  that  way  anyhow,  but  then  the 
people  who  write  arithmetics  don't  know  the  dif- 
ference. 

The  English  isn't  half  bad.  We  have  been 
reading  Scott's  "Lady  of  the  Lake."     It  is  very 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  91 

thrilling,  and  would  make  a  first-rate  play  for  us 
to  give  in  the  Barnville.  Fitz  James  and  Roderick 
Dhu  were  brave  men,  and  Ellen  was  a  lovely 
lady,  and  brave  too,  just  Uke  Zara,  It  isn't  hard 
to  remember  all  about  them,  but  the  arithmetic 
is  too  much  for  me. 

Physiology  isn't  just  the  easiest  thing  in  the 
world,  either.  We  had  an  examination  on  it  to- 
day. Had  to  tell  all  about  the  circulation  of  the 
blood.  IVe  been  studying  that  till  I  dreamed  I 
was  a  red  corpuscle  floating  around  in  a  vein.  I 
wish  I  were  one  for  a  while — long  enough  to  get 
the  route  they  take  fixed  in  my  memory. 

But  even  at  that  I  am  dreaming  Barnville  more 
than  red  corpuscles,  or  cows,  or  how  many  hours 
it  will  take  to  do  a  certain  piece  of  work.  It's 
hard  to  sit  writing  on  a  long  sheet  of  ruled  exam- 
ination paper  when  the  sun  shines  in  warm  and 
bright,  and  you  just  know  the  Barnville  would 
be  fine  and  warm  for  a  rehearsal,  or  a  make- 
believe  play  that  you  made  up  as  you  went  along. 
Sometimes  I  forget  all  about  the  old  exam  and 
sit  thinking    about    the    Barnville  till,   when  I 


92  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

come  to  myself,  I  have  to  hurry  to  finish  my 
paper. 

But  more  often  I  stick  to  the  exam  and  then 
think  about  the  Bamville  after  I  am  through.  I 
either  know  the  answers  to  the  questions  or  I 
don't  know  them,  and  I  don't  waste  time  beating 
aroimd  the  bush  trying  to  make  teacher  think 
I  know  when  I  don't.  So  I  usually  get  done 
before  the  others.  You  have  to  spend  the  whole 
time  that  is  given  you,  though,  because  the  teacher 
thinks  you  haven't  worked  hard  if  you  pass  in 
your  paper  before  the  end  of  the  hour.  So  I  have 
been  writing  out  the  stories  of  make-beHeve  plays 
on  my  pad  of  scratch  paper  while  I  wait  for  the 
end  of  the  hour  to  come.  Oh,  I've  thought  out 
some  corking  good  ones !  This  summer  I  am  going 
to  write  a  real  play,  just  like  Jo  and  Meg  did. 
Then  the  Barnstormers  can  give  it,  and  I'll  be 
a  real  playwright,  just  like  Charles  Klein,  and 
David  Belasco,  and  all  the  others  you  read  about 
in  the  dramatic  news  of  the  Sunday  paper. 
Maybe  some  day  I'll  be  a  real  one  for  sure,  just 
like  those  big  bugs  are.     Gee! 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  93 

Other  times  this  week  when  I  have  had  noth- 
ing to  do  I  have  thought  through  my  Hnes  in  the 
play.  You  know  it's  really  funny  how  you  can 
think  through  a  play.  I  know  nearly  the  whole 
thing  now,  for  IVe  learned  other  people's  Hnes 
besides  my  own  just  Hstening  to  them  said.  I 
can  sit  and  think  and  act  'most  as  if  I  were  right 
there  acting  it. 

To-day  I  was  sitting  there  thinking  through  my 
scene  with  Bernardo — the  last  one  in  the  play — 
where  Zara  tells  him  she  will  stand  by  him  even 
if  he  hasn't  treated  her  right,  and  I  got  so  inter- 
ested in  it  I  didn't  notice  that  the  hour  was  up 
and  that  every  one  was  passing  their  papers  in. 
So  I  didn't  take  my  paper  up  to  the  desk;  but  I 
woke  up  just  in  time  to  save  my  skin.  The  teacher 
looked  suspicious  and  asked  me  why  I  was  so  late 
bringing  my  paper  up  to  the  desk.  I  told  her 
the  truth — that  I  had  finished  it  before  the  others 
were  through  and  was  thinking  about  something 
else  and  forgot.  She  looked  at  me  with  a  queer 
little  twinkle  in  her  eyes,  and  said  something  about 
she  wouldn't  take  such  an  explanation  from  most 


94  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

boys,  but  I  was  "different."    I  don't  know  quite 
what  she  meant. 

Two  more  days  of  exams,  and  then  Saturday! 
And  then  a  whole  glorious  week! 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Sunday,  April  2. 

We  have  had  one  performance  of  our  play. 
The  school-children's  matinee  came  off  yesterday 
afternoon  and  was  a  great  success.  But  we  had 
quite  an  exciting  time  along  with  it,  because 
some  of  that  West-End  gang  tried  to  break  up  the 
show. 

We  had  twenty-two  people  at  the  matinee, 
which  meant  fourty-four  cents  for  us.  EHzabeth 
Thomas  and  her  Httle  brother  wanted  to  get  in 
on  pins,  because  they  said  that  is  all  you  ever 
paid  to  get  into  shows  in  bams,  but  we  told 
her  she  could  stay  away  unless  she  paid  the  full 
price — two  cents  apiece.  So  she  went  back  home 
and  finally  returned  with  two  postage-stamps. 
We  had  to  take  them,  though  Hal  thought  we 
should  not  have  done  it. 

Several  of  the  kids  we  know  at  school  came, 
95 


96  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

and  all  the  little  youngsters  in  the  neighborhood. 
There  were  three  grown-up  people:  mother,  Mrs. 
Jameson,  and  the  Petersons'  hired  girl,  who 
brought  the  three  Peterson  kids. 

Larry  thought  we  should  charge  these  grown-up 
people  five  cents,  but  we  decided  it  wouldn't  be 
the  best  thing  to  do,  and  so  let  them  in  for  two. 

The  show  started  off  beautifully.  In  the  morn- 
ing we  cut  those  evergreen  boughs  for  the  first 
act  from  some  trees  back  in  one  corner  of  the 
big  pasture  that  lies  about  a  block  away  from 
where  we  live.  Old  Mr.  Durgan  owns  that  pas- 
ture, and  we  were  scared  as  green  as  the  trees 
themselves  for  fear  he'd  see  us  and  send  Huggins, 
his  hired  man,  out  after  us.  Because  if  he  had 
taken  it  into  his  head,  he  might  have  sent  us  all 
to  the  lockup,  and  sued  our  fathers,  or  done 
something  awful.  Old  Durgan  is  soured  on  the 
world,  and  when  folks  get  in  that  fix  there's  no 
teUing  what  they  will  do. 

The  first  act  looked  fine.  We  darkened  the 
Bamville  because  we  were  afraid  things  wouldn't 
look  right  in  dayhght,  and  we  wanted  to  use  the 
regular  lights.    Making  the  barn  dark  was  easy 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  97 

enough,  for  the  windows  of  the  loft  are  just 
wooden  shutters,  and  when  you  close  them  the 
loft  is  black  as  night.  That  evergreen  forest  in 
the  first  act  was  some  forest  all  right,  and  will 
be  still  better  when  we  fix  it  up  for  Wednesday 
night,  because  we  will  have  about  twice  as  many 
evergreen  boughs. 

Everything  went  all  right  till  the  third  act. 
We  had  just  come  to  the  place  where  Zara  loses 
her  veil  and  Ernest  recognizes  her  as  the  lovely 
lady  he  saved  from  the  forest.  He  had  just  said, 
"Lady! — and  is  it  thou?''  when  a  rock  hit  the 
side  of  the  bam.  Some  of  the  little  kids  giggled, 
and  John  stopped  for  a  moment  before  going  on. 
Nothing  more  happened,  so  he  started  the  speech 
over.  Then  another  rock  hit  the  barn,  and  an- 
other, and  another.  Somebody  outside  began  to 
yell,  and  the  rocks  came  faster  and  faster.  John 
and  I  were  left  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  stage 
imable  to  finish  our  scene. 

I  knew  what  it  was  the  minute  the  first  rock 
hit  the  bam.  The  only  thing  that  worried  me 
was  how  many  of  the  West-End  gang  were  out- 
side. 


98  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

The  little  kids,  and  the  others,  too,  were  begin- 
ning to  get  frightened.  Mrs.  Jameson  and  mother 
moved  close  together  and  seemed  to  be  talking 
about  what  to  do,  for  I  think  they  had  an  idea 
of  what  was  up. 

I  didn't  know  what  to  do  at  first,  but  after 
several  rocks  had  hit  the  barn  I  walked  to  the 
front  of  the  stage  and  made  a  Httle  speech.  I 
said  something  about,  "Ladies  and  gentlemen,  we 
are  sorry  for  this  interruption,  and  if  you  will 
kindly  be  patient  we  will  ring  down  the  curtain 
and  see  what  can  be  done." 

So  the  curtain  was  let  down,  and  we  all  got 
together  to  decide  how  we  should  get  rid  of  the 
West-Enders.  We  were  afraid  the  people  in  the 
audience  would  leave  if  we  didn't  do  something 
quick. 

So  Larry  shd  down  the  chute  to  the  first  floor 
and  got  some  lengths  of  old  hose  and  attached 
one  end  to  the  water  spigot.  Hal,  John,  and  I 
followed  and  armed  ourselves  with  some  rotten 
apples  from  the  bottom  of  a  barrel  that  had  just 
been  moved  from  the  cellar.  What  we  planned 
was  a  quick  attack  with  water  and  apples.    Hal 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  99 

and  I  went  up-stairs  and  peeped  out  of  a  crack 
in  the  back  window  that  overlooks  the  alley. 
John  and  Larry  got  ready  to  open  fire  from  below. 
The  signal  was  to  be  a  yell. 

When  it  came,  Hal  and  I  flung  open  the 
window  and  let  drive  with  the  apples.  At  the 
same  time  Larry  turned  loose  with  the  water 
and  Hal  pasted  one  of  the  West-Enders  with  an 
apple. 

We  certainly  did  take  those  two  by  surprise; 
for  there  were  only  two  of  them,  Hen  Perkins 
and  Pete  McGann,  the  same  two  who  made  fun 
of  us  that  day  when  we  were  buying  the  stuff 
for  the  scenery  and  drops.  They  weren't  more 
than  ten  feet  from  the  back  of  the  barn,  so  it 
was  easy  to  hit  them.  John's  apple  took  Pete 
right  in  the  mouth,  and  at  the  §:ame  time  th^ 
Stteam  of  water  Wt  him  full  in  the  face.  Hal 
landed  one  on  Hen  Perkins's  head  and  mine  took 
him  in  the  stomach.  They  weren't  hard,  and  so, 
of  course,  they  didn't  hurt,  but  they  did  make 
those  two  look  pretty  mussy.  They  were  so  sur- 
prised that  they  didn't  even  have  sense  enough 
to  run  until  we  had  them  nicely  plastered  up  with 


loo  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

rotten  apples  and  had  soaked  them  with  water 
to  boot.  I'd  like  to  know  what  story  they  told 
when  they  had  to  go  through  town  m  such 
a  fix! 

Well,  after  this  little  interruption  we  went  back 
and  started  the  third  act  over  again.  We  were 
all  just  the  least  bit  worked  up  over  what  had 
happened,  but  we  didn't  let  that  make  any 
difference.  We  did  the  rest  of  the  show  up  in 
style. 

Everybody  seemed  pleased  with  it.  The  grown- 
up people  thought  we  did  splendidly.  Just  wait 
till  Wednesday  night!  Then  is  when  we  will 
show  them  what  we  can  do. 

Oh,  I  forgot  one  fimny  thing!  Yesterday  was 
April  I  St,  April  FooFs  Day.  Of  course,  some- 
body would  be  sure  to  play  a  joke  down  at  the 
BamviUe.  I  suppose  we  might  say  that  was  what 
the  West-Enders  were  trying,  but  theirs  didn't 
work  very  well.  But  this  other  joke  was  all  right. 
Hal  played  it  and  carried  it  off  to  perfection. 
About  one  o'clock,  when  we  were  ready  for  the 
matinee  and  were  expecting  to  have  some  of  the 
people  come  any  minute,  Hal  arrived.    He  said 


THEY    WERE    SO    SURPRISED    THAT    THEY    DIDN  T    EVEN    HAVE 
SENSE    ENOUGH   TO   RUN 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  thr 

he  was  sorry  to  be  so  late,  but  something  of  great 
importance  had  come  up. 

Right  away  all  of  us  wanted  to  know  what  it 
was. 

"Well/*  said  Hal,  "there's  a  law  in  this  State 
that  says  all  theatres  must  be  properly  licensed, 
and  if  they  aren't  the  owners  and  all  persons  con- 
nected with  them  will  be  liable  to  arrest  and  im- 
prisonment not  exceeding  two  years.  We'd  bet- 
ter call  off  the  show  till  we  get  a  license." 

"Honest?"  said  Larry. 

"I  don't  believe  it,"  said  John. 

Hal  laughed.  "Believe  it  or  not,"  he  said,  " you 
can  go  over  and  read  it  in  Mr.  Lawson's  law  books. 
I  saw  the  whole  thing  there  myself.  I  think  we 
had  better  be  careful." 

We  were  all  quite  worked  up  over  that  old 
license  business,  and  Hal  seemed  the  most  ex- 
cited of  anybody.  He  let  it  go  just  as  far  as  he 
wanted  to  and  then  began  to  laugh. 

"April  fool!  April  fool!"  he  yeUed.  "Did  ever 
a  lot  of  people  bite  like  you  have!" 

We  were  so  mad  we  could  have  pounded  him, 
only  it  was  about  time  for  people  to  begin  com- 


;wi'1>\l.:;,' tHE  BASlNSTORMERS 

ing,  so  we  couldn't  stop  for  a  scrap.    We  just 
laughed  instead  and  told  him  we  would  get  even 
when  the  right  time  came. 
But  it  was  funny! 

Tuesday,  April  4. 

The  Barnstormers  are  about  the  busiest  little 
bees  that  ever  buzzed.  We  are  getting  ready  for 
that  performance  to-morrow  night,  and  we  find 
there  is  a  great  deal  to  do.  But  it  is  vacation, 
which  is  a  blessing  in  more  ways  than  one.  Our 
time  is  our  own,  and  we  don't  have  to  stop  and 
hurry  off  to  school  just  about  the  time  we  get 
anything  started. 

To-morrow  is  the  great  day.  I  can  hardly  wait 
for  to-morrow  night  to  cornel  1  just  know  \V6 
are  going  to  make  the  show  go  as  ia  show  never 
went  before. 

Last  night  we  sold  twenty-five  tickets.  Think — 
a  whole  dollar  and  twenty-five  cents'  worth. 
And  we  had  a  lot  of  fun  doing  it,  too. 

Hal  printed  some  handbills  like  the  one  I  have 
pasted  in  below. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  103 


THE  BARNSTORMERS 

IN 

THE  CAPTIVE  OF  CASTILE 
A  Play 

BY 

LOUISA  ALCOTT 

The  Barnville  Theatre 

Wed.,  April  5. 

7:30  PM 

Reserved  Seats,  5  cts. 

BEAUTIFUL  PRODUCTION 

Do  Not  Miss  It!    Come  One, 
Come  All! 


(Jameson,  Print) 


I04  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

We  have  tickets,  too,  like  this: 


Section                 d 

THE   BARNSTORMERS 
ADMIT  ONE 

Row                     J^ 

Seat                     y 

Date,  Wed.,  April  5. 

I  think  those  tickets  are  corkers.  They  look 
just  like  the  ones  they  have  at  the  Opera 
House. 

I  guess  the  stunt  we  worked  to  sell  tickets  was 
some  stunt  all  right !  We  dressed  up  in  the  clothes 
we  are  to  wear  in  the  play  and  went  around  to 
the  houses  of  different  people  we  know  and  made 
calls.  We  went  to  Judge  Ring's  first,  and  we  were 
real  scared,  because  we  didn't  know  how  they 
would  take  our  coming  there.  We  rang  the  door- 
bell and  the  girl  came  to  the  door.  She  certainly 
did  look  surprised.  We  told  her  we  would  Hke  to 
see  the  judge.    I  guess  she  told  him  there  were  a 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  105 

lot  of  crazy  people  at  the  door,  because  he  came 
out  looking  real  fierce.  But  when  he  saw  us  he 
just  ha-hawed.  He  asked  us  in,  and  we  sat  down 
in  the  parlor,  and  Mrs.  Ring  and  Miss  Elsa  came 
in,  and  they  laughed,  too.  We  gave  each  one  of 
them  a  handbill  and  then  told  them  about  the 
show.  The  judge  took  three  tickets,  and  said  he 
surely  would  be  there  Wednesday  night,  no  mat- 
ter what  might  happen. 

Next  we  went  to  Mr.  Tilson's.  They  let  us  in 
and  seemed  just  as  tickled  as  the  Rings  had  been. 
We  sold  two  tickets  there.  We  went  on  to  six 
other  houses,  and  altogether  we  sold  twenty-five 
tickets. 

I  felt  so  funny  dressed  up  in  my  dress.  I  didn't 
want  to  wear  it,  but  they  all  said  I  had  to.  I 
kept  my  veil  on  all  the  time,  though,  so  it  wasn't 
so  bad,  for  that  hid  my  face,  and  I  could  grin  as 
much  as  I  wanted.  Only  I  couldn't  see  through 
the  veil,  and  John  had  to  lead  me. 

While  I  am  pasting  things  in,  I  guess  I'll  put 
in  a  copy  of  The  Gimlet,  It's  last  week's  copy 
that  came  out  Saturday.  It  tells  all  about  the 
Barnstormers. 


io6 


THE  BARNSTORMERS 


THE  GIMLET 


April  I. 


DON'T    MISS   THE   CAPTIVE   OF   CASTILE 


THE   BARNSTORMERS 

IN  A  GREAT 

PLAY 

It  is  with  pleasure  that 
The  Gimlet  announces  the 
first  performance  of  a  famous 
play  by  the  new  theatrical 
company  known  as  the  Barn- 
stormers. 

The  Barnstormers  is  an  or- 
ganization of  very  talented 
juvenile  players,  and  much  is 
to  be  expected  of  them  in  the 
future.  We  are  sure  that 
those  of  our  readers  who  at- 
tend the  first  play  will  be 
greatly  pleased. 

"The  Captive  of  Castile" 
tells  the  story  of  man's  brav- 
ery and  woman's  true  hero- 
ism. The  leading  parts  will 
be  played  by  Mr.  John  Jame- 
son and  Mr.  Robert  Archer. 
Mr.  Archer  is  especially  fine 
in  the  part  of  Zara,  the  much 
wronged  heroine.  Mr.  Jame- 
son is  a  very  handsome  and 
convincing  hero.    The  other 


THE   BARNSTORMERS 

IN 

THE  CAPTIVE  OF 
CASTILE 

A  Romantic  Drama 

by 

Louisa  Alcott. 

THE 
BARNVILLE  THEATRE 

School  Children's  Matinee 
Saturday,  Ap.  ist 
Admission,  2  cts. 

REGULAR 
PERFORMANCE 

Wednesday 
April  5,  at  7  :  30  P.  M. 
Admission,  5  cents. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS 


107 


April  I. 


THE  GIMLET 


Page  2. 


Continued  from  first  page 


parts  of  the  play  are  taken  by- 
Mr.  Harold  Jameson  and  Mr. 
Lawrence  Donovan. 

The  scenery  for  the  pro- 
duction is  very  elaborate. 
The  Bamville  management 
has  spared  no  expense  or 
trouble  in  the  efifort  to  make 
the  play  successful  in  every 
way. 

The  Barnville,  Jordan's 
new  juvenile  theatre,  is  a 
model  of  convenience  and 
beauty.  It  will  prove  to  be 
an  agreeable  surprise  to  those 
who  visit  it. 

We  urge  all  our  patrons  to 
support  the  noble  cause  of 
the  drama  by  buying  tickets 
and  attending  the  forthcom- 
ing production. 

o 

We  wish  to  call  attention 
to  the  fact  that  many  sub- 
scriptions are  due.  We  can't 
print  the  paper  unless  you 
pay  in,  Mr.  Subscriber. 
o 

Hurrah  for  vacation! 


The  Gimlet  Press  is  now 
prepared  to  print  cards  and 
advertising  circulars  at  the 
lowest  prices  in  town.  Give 
us  a  trial. 


THE  GIMLET 

Volume  II,  Number  6. 

Published  weekly  at  The  Gim- 
let Press,  246  East  Second 
Street. 

Subscription,  2  cts  per  copy, 
fifty  cents  per  year,  five  cents 
per  month. 

Harold  Jameson,  printer  and 
publisher. 

Editor  in  Chief,  Harold 
Jameson. 

Subscription  manager,  Harold 
Jameson. 

Sporting  Editor,  Harold  Jame- 
son. 

Newsboy,  Harold  Jameson. 
O 

DUST  FROM  THE 
GIMLET 

Who  said  being  an  actor 
was  an  easy  job? 

We  are  going  to  start  a 
puzzle  department,  and  offer 
a  prize  for  the  guy  that  will 
solve  the  puzzle  of  how  to  get 
money  out  of  subscribers. 

Money  talks.  So  do  sub- 
scribers. But  we  would 
rather  hear  the  Money. 

Advertise  in  The  Gimlet. 
It  is  read  by  fifty  people  every 
week. 

We  know  this  is  a  bum  is- 
sue, but  we  can't  act  and  print 
both.  Come  see  Ye  Editor 
as  the  villain.  He's  a  better 
villain  than  an  editor. 


168  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

I  guess  The  Gimlet  is  some  newspaper  all  right! 
Hal  has  been  so  busy  that  this  number  isn't  quite 
as  good  as  usual,  but  I  wanted  to  keep  it  because 
it  is  all  about  the  Barnstormers.  I  helped  to 
print  it,  too.  We  did  it  Thursday  afternoon.  Hal 
had  the  type  all  set  and  the  form  in  the  press, 
and  I  helped  run  off  the  printed  copies. 

I  also  helped  write  the  article  about  the  Barn- 
stormers. We  got  an  old  bill  that  told  about 
"The  All-Star  Stock  Company"  that  visited  this 
town  some  months  ago,  and  we  took  our  adjec- 
tives from  that  and  from  an  accoimt  in  the  Mitch- 
ell paper  about  the  opening  of  the  new  Opera 
House  there. 

Sometimes  Hal  draws  pictures  on  the  front  page 
of  The  Gimlet,  He  does  some  that  are  very  funny. 
When  Judge  Winton  was  elected  last  fall  Hal  had 
a  picture  on  the  front  page  showing  a  man,  sup- 
posed to  be  the  judge,  standing  on  top  of  another 
man,  who  was  supposed  to  be  Mr.  Land,  who  was 
the  fellow  the  judge  defeated  in  the  election.  That 
copy  of  the  paper  was  given  over  to  poHtical  news. 
Hal  sent  a  copy  to  Judge  Winton  himself,  and  the 
judge  wrote  him  a  letter  thanking  him  for  it. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  109 

But  Hal  doesn't  have  many  front-page  draw- 
ings these  days,  because  now  that  the  subscrip- 
tion is  up  to  fifty  copies  it  takes  too  long  to  draw 
a  picture  on  each  one,  even  if  it  is  just  sketched 
in  with  a  pencil. 

With  fifty  subscribers  Hal  ought  to  make  some 
money,  but  so  few  of  them  pay  that  he  is  usually 
in  debt  for  paper  and  ink. 

I  suppose  I  must  go  to  bed,  because  to-morrow 
is  the  Big  day,  and  we  will  all  be  up  late  to- 
morrow night. 

Wo-o-o-o-o!    I  just  can't  wait  for  to-morrow! 


CHAPTER  IX 

Wednesday,  April  5. 

To-day  has  seemed  dreadfully  long.  We 
haven't  had  much  to  do  because  everything  is 
ready  for  the  show  to-night,  and  we  couldn't  give 
make-believe  plays,  because  the  stage  is  all  set 
with  the  forest  scene,  and  we  mustn't  disturb 
that.  Besides,  we  all  thought  we  should  rest  this 
afternoon  so  that  we  would  be  fresh  for  to-night, 
but  it  is  twice  as  hard  to  rest  as  it  is  to  work.  I 
just  don't  know  what  to  do  with  myself. 

I  feel  weak  in  the  knees,  too,  when  I  think  about 
all  of  those  people  who  are  coming  to  the  show 
to-night.  Suppose  something  should  go  wrong! 
Or  suppose  I  should  forget  some  of  my  lines! 
There  are  so  many  awful  supposes  that  I  just 
can't  sit  still  for  thinking  about  them.  I  know 
it  is  silly  to  worry,  but  I  can't  help  it. 

Hal,  John,  and  Larry  spent  the  morning  over 
here,  and  we  put  the  last  touches  to  the  Bamville. 

no 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  iii 

It  is  all  swept  out  as  clean  as  a  new  pin  so  that 
none  of  the  ladies  will  soil  their  dresses  on  the 
floor.  We  have  put  sofa  pillows  on  the  board 
seats,  so  they  will  be  soft  to  sit  on,  and  so  people 
will  not  get  tired  and  want  to  go  home  before  the 
show  is  over.  And  we  have  five  Japanese  lan- 
terns put  along  from  the  front  gate  to  the  bam 
so  that  no  one  can  possibly  miss  the  way.  If 
there  is  anything  else  we  might  do  I  don't  know 
what  it  is. 

We  ought  really  to  have  some  one  who  is  not 
in  the  show  to  act  as  ticket-taker  and  usher.  But 
since  we  have  only  four  members,  and  all  of  us 
are  in  the  play,  we  can't  very  well  do  that.  So 
Larry  is  going  to  take  the  tickets  and  show  peo- 
ple to  their  seats.  He  doesn't  come  in  until  the 
second  act,  and  he  can  get  ready  for  that  while 
the  first  act  is  going  on. 

The  seats  are  all  numbered  with  chalk  on  the 
floor  imder  each  one.  Each  seat  is  reserved,  and 
the  ticket  marked  with  the  section,  row,  and  num- 
ber. There  are  two  sections,  A  and  B.  A  is  at 
the  right,  B  is  at  the  left.  There  are  five  rows 
of  seats  in  each  section,  and  we  have  allowed  four 


112  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

seats  to  each  row.  That  means  we  have  room 
for  forty  people.  There  are  thirty  seats  sold  now, 
so  if  all  those  people  come,  we  will  not  have  room 
for  many  more. 

I  do  wish  we  could  have  music  of  some  sort 
before  the  curtain  goes  up  and  in  between  each 
act.  They  always  have  it  in  a  regular  theatre, 
and  the  Barnville  ought  to  have  it,  too.  Maybe 
by  the  time  we  give  our  next  show  we  can  borrow 
a  phonograph  or  get  somebody  who  plays  the 
vioHn  or  the  harmonica.  Only  a  harmonica 
wouldn't  be  very  nice  to  have  at  a  show  where 
grown-up  people  come.  I  hope  we  can  have  a 
phonograph.  Perhaps  if  we  make  a  great  suc- 
cess, some  one  will  lend  us  a  phonograph  for  the 
next  show  we  give. 

Nearly  five  o'clock  now!  I  am  going  to  have 
my  supper  in  half  an  hour,  and  at  six  Hal,  Larry, 
and  John  are  coming.  Then  we  will  make  up, 
dress,  and  be  ready  for  the  show  at  seven-thirty. 

I  wish  it  was  all  over.  I  am  glad  we  are  hav- 
ing it,  but  I  feel  so  queer  inside!  All  trembly, 
and  as  if  I  had  several  hearts  beating  at  the  same 
time.    I  suppose  I  have  what  they  call  stage  fright 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  113 

But  the  "Hints  to  Amateur  Thespians"  says  that 
stage  fright  always  passes  after  you  begin  to  act, 
so  I  guess  there  is  some  hope  for  me. 

Thursday,  April  6. 

This  is  the  morning  after  of  the  night  before. 
But  I  don't  care  if  I  am  tired,  for  we  certainly 
put  one  over  last  night.  The  show  went  ever  so 
well,  and  people  Hked  it.  When  things  really 
come  out  right  you  don't  care  if  you  are  tired 
afterward. 

The  audience  began  to  come  about  seven-fif- 
teen. First  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Jameson  and  father 
and  mother  came  down.  Then  Larry's  father 
and  mother  arrived,  and  after  that  a  whole  string 
of  people.  We  had  every  last  seat  full,  and  sev- 
eral people  standing.  We  took  in  two  dollars 
and  twenty  cents.  We  are  rich — ^we  have  a  reg- 
ular young  fortune! 

Larry  took  tickets  and  showed  people  to  their 
seats,  just  as  I  said  he  was  going  to  do,  and  then 
came  up  to  dress.  We  waited  till  about  a  quar- 
ter of  eight  before  we  began.  We  thought  it  was 
best  to  wait  until  we  were  sure  everybody  was 


114  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

there.  And  then,  too,  it  isn't  the  thing  to  begin 
shows  when  they  are  advertised  to  begin.  They 
never  do  it  at  the  Opera  House,  or  at  the  lecture 
course  in  the  Masonic  Hall. 

We  were  all  pretty  much  scared  while  we  were 
waiting  to  begin  the  first  scene.  When  I  peeped 
out  through  the  slit  at  the  side  of  the  curtain  and 
saw  all  those  forty-four  grown-up  people  looking 
as  solemn  as  a  funeral,  I  was  about  ready  to  turn 
turkey  and  run.  I  was  terribly  weak  and  trem- 
bly, and  I  felt  again  as  though  I  had  about  a 
dozen  hearts  all  beating  at  the  same  time.  I 
was  sure  I  would  never  be  able  to  say  a  word 
when  I  got  out  before  the  crowd.  It  was  lots 
worse  than  saying  pieces  at  a  church  cantata  at 
Christmas  time. 

Well,  finally  we  were  ready  to  begin.  Hal 
thumped  three  times  with  a  stick  of  wood  on  the 
floor,  and  the  people  out  front  quieted  down. 
The  curtain  went  up.  John,  looking  quite  as 
scared  as  I  did,  made  his  way  on  the  stage.  I 
don't  know  how  he  said  his  fines.  AU  I  do  know 
is  that  after  what  seemed  hours  I  heard  my  cue, 
and  somehow  got  out  in  the  centre  of  the  stage 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  115 

where  I  belonged.  I  felt  as  if  I  should  die,  but 
I  didn't.  I  gave  an  awful  gulp,  and  then  I  heard 
myself  saying  the  first  few  lines  of  my  speech,  and 
my  voice  soimded  as  though  it  were  miles  away. 
Then  I  began  to  feel  better,  and  by  the  time  John 
came  on  again  I  was  all  right. 

We  finished  up  the  act  as  well  as  we  ever  had 
done  it,  and  I  think  possibly  somewhat  better. 
When  the  curtain  went  down  the  audience  clapped 
their  hands  until  we  had  to  raise  it  again  so  that 
John  and  I  could  go  out  and  bow.  After  that  there 
was  more  clapping,  and  a  great  buzz  of  people 
talking  and  laughing  together.  But  we  couldn't 
stop  to  Hsten  to  that.  We  had  to  get  busy,  and 
do  it  quick  at  that,  clearing  the  stage  and  reset- 
ting it  for  the  next  scene. 

We  all  felt  happy  because  the  audience  seemed 
so  well  pleased  with  the  show.  We  took  time 
for  a  Httle  joUification  all  our  own  while  the  ap- 
plause was  still  going  on.  We  pounded  each 
other  in  the  back  and  had  a  regular  young  jubilee 
back  there  behind  the  curtain.  But  we  didn't 
have  any  time  to  spare  for  even  that,  so  we  set 
to  work  at  once  clearing  out  the  evergreen  boughs 


ii6  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

and  changing  the  stage  from  a  forest  to  a  room 
in  Bernardo^ s  house. 

The  second  scene  went  quite  as  well  as  the 
first.  Hal  made  a  great  hit.  He  ran  in  lots  of 
little  things  he  had  never  done  before,  but  they 
were  all  good  and  helped  out  his  part.  People 
seemed  to  think  he  was  very  funny,  for  they 
laughed  at  him  all  the  time. 

I  had  a  hard  time  to  keep  serious  during  some 
of  my  speeches.  When  Hal  came  to  that  part 
where  he  says,  "Adieu,  love,  I  must  to  the  coun- 
cil," I  thought  about  that  silly  speech  he  always 
had  put  in  about  "Adieu,  love,  I  must  to  the  pig- 
pen," and  it  was  all  I  could  do  to  keep  from  burst- 
ing out  laughing.  The  worst  of  it  was  that  Hal 
nearly  said  pig-pen  instead  of  council.  He  had 
said  it  wrong  for  so  long  a  time  that  he  was  in  the 
habit  of  it.  He  got  as  far  as  the  sound  of  the 
letter  p  in  pig  before  he  caught  himself  and  changed 
to  coimcil.  Our  eyes  met,  and  for  a  minute  I 
thought  the  game  was  up,  and  we  would  both 
have  to  stop  and  laugh.  But  Hal  just  winked, 
as  serious  as  could  be,  and  went  off  through  the 
wings.    To  keep  from  laughing,  I  buried  my  face 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  117 

in  my  hands  and  pretended  I  was  crying.  It 
happened  to  fit  in  very  well,  and  quite  saved  the 
day  for  me. 

After  Bernardo  leaves,  Zara  calls  for  Sdim, 
and  when  he  comes  on  they  have  quite  a  little 
scene  together  before  she  gets  the  keys  of  the 
prison  from  him.  Larry  has  been  bragging  about 
his  wonderful  system  as  property-man,  by  which 
nothing  would  ever  be  missed  when  needed.  The 
joke  was  on  him,  I  guess,  for  he  forgot  the  keys. 
Zara  has  quite  a  time  to  get  old  Selim  to  let  her 
have  the  keys  to  the  donjon,  but  at  last  he  gives 
in,  kneels  before  her,  and  offers  her  the  whole 
bunch  of  keys  he  carries  at  his  belt.  Larry  got 
down  on  his  knees  all  right,  but  when  he  reached 
for  the  keys  they  weren't  there.  He  looked  up 
at  me  with  the  blankest  look  I  ever  saw  on  any 
one's  face.  Even  his  grin  was  gone.  But  it  came 
back  in  a  minute.  His  back  was  to  the  audience, 
and  he  winked  at  me  and  said:  "A  moment, 
lady.  I  crave  a  thousand  pardons.  The  keys  are 
in  the  bag  I  left  without."  Then  he  whispered: 
"Say  something  while  I  get  'em!" 

So  I  had  to  make  up  a  speech  to  fit.    I'm  afraid 


ii8  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

it  was  silly,  but  it  got  by.  I  clasped  my  hands 
and  looked  up  to  the  rafters  and  said:  "At  last 
fate  leads  me  to  thee,  Ernest!  Oh,  how  I  long 
to  see  thy  face  again!" 

Then  Larry  came  back  on  the  stage,  knelt, 
gave  me  the  keys,  and  we  went  on  with  the  scene. 
I  guess  that  was  "saving  the  beans"  in  a  pretty 
neat  manner! 

The  third  scene,  the  one  in  Ernesfs  cell,  made 
quite  a  hit.  We  turned  the  footHghts  out  and 
had  the  stage  quite  dark,  with  the  only  light 
coming  from  the  magic  lantern. 

When  the  curtain  went  up  John  was  sitting  on 
his  bed  of  straw,  his  head  bowed  on  his  manacled 
hands,  and  the  only  Hght  for  the  scene  coming 
from  the  "spot."  Hal  said  it  was  "artistic." 
Whatever  it  was,  the  audience  liked  it  and  clapped 
their  hands.  That  gave  John  and  me  quite  a  little 
encouragement,  and  we  did  the  best  we  could. 
The  only  trouble  we  had  in  the  whole  scene  came 
when  I  tried  to  make  my  veil  fall.  I  thought  I 
should  never  get  the  thing  to  come  loose.  But  it 
did,  and  I  guess  the  audience  didn't  see  that  I 
had  to  fairly  pull  it  off. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  119 

I  had  a  curtain  call  on  the  fourth  scene.  At 
the  end  of  it  Zara,  after  having  made  up  her  mind 
to  steal  the  death-warrant  from  beneath  the  pil- 
low of  her  sleeping  father,  says:  "Ernest,  'tis  for 
thee!  For  thee!"  That  seemed  to  make  quite 
a  hit. 

The  fifth  scene,  where  Zara  steals  the  death- 
warrant,  also  pleased  the  audience.  They  clapped 
a  lot  after  it,  but  I  didn't  go  out  before  the 
curtain.  I  don't  think  it  looks  well  to  do  it  too 
often. 

Hal  just  ran  away  with  the  sixth  scene.  That 
is  where  he  accuses  Zara  of  destro3dng  the  death- 
warrant  and  she  confesses  to  the  crime.  Hal 
was  terribly  villainous  and  very  fierce.  The  au- 
dience seemed  to  think  he  was  about  the  fimniest 
thing  they  had  ever  seen.  They  just  wouldn't 
take  us  seriously.  The  more  serious  we  got,  the 
funnier  they  seemed  to  think  it  was.  When  Hal 
said:  "Ha!  Is  it  so?"  and  stood  glowering  at 
me,  everybody  laughed.  We  didn't  quite  know 
what  to  do,  but  we  still  kept  serious,  and  finally 
the  people  quieted  down.  When  Bernardo  tells 
Zara  that  if  she  wishes  to  save  Ernest  she  must 


I20  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

swear  never  to  wed  one  other  than  of  her  own 
people,  I  threw  myself  at  his  feet  and  embraced 
his  knees,  just  Hke  you  read  about  the  heroines 
doing  in  "Ivanhoe"  and  other  romantic  novels, 
and  cried:  "O  father,  father,  anything  but  this!" 
The  audience  sobered  up  then,  and  we  went  on 
with  the  scene  in  the  most  theatrical  manner. 
When  it  comes  to  the  place  where  Zara  takes  the 
oath,  you  could  have  heard  a  pin  drop.  I  can 
hear  myself  yet  saying:  "I  swear;  and  may  the 
spirit  of  that  mother  look  in  pity  on  the  child 
whose  love  hath  made  her  Ufe  so  dark  a  path  to 
tread."  My  last  speech  in  the  scene  is  one  of 
the  best  in  the  play.  When  I  said  the  last  line 
of  it,  "Now,  farewell,  love;  my  poor  heart  may 
grieve  for  its  lost  joy,  and  look  for  comfort  but 
in  heaven,"  I  raised  both  my  hands  up  over 
my  head  and  fell  back  on  the  divan  in  a  dead 
faint.  (Not  a  real  faint,  you  know,  for  it  was  just 
part  of  the  acting.)  The  audience  clapped  and 
clapped,  and  Hal  and  I  had  to  bow  twice,  and  then 
I  had  to  bow  alone  and  Hal  had  to  bow  alone. 
It  made  me  feel  good  all  over — sort  of  tingly 
and  happy  clear  to  my  toes. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  121 

The  stage-setting  for  the  seventh  scene,  which 
is  Hernando^s  cell,  looked  just  as  good  as  we  had 
hoped  it  would,  and  the  audience  applauded  it 
when  the  curtain  went  up,  showing  Larry  seated 
there  at  the  foot  of  the  altar.  Larry  did  the  part 
of  Hernando  much  better  than  he  had  ever  done 
it  at  rehearsal.    And  he  didn't  grin! 

By  the  end  of  that  seventh  scene  we  were  all 
f eeUng  pretty  happy.  We  had  only  one  more 
act,  and  so  far  everything  had  gone  all  right. 

The  last  was  no  exception.  Hal  and  I  got  some 
applause  along  about  the  middle  of  the  scene. 
When  Zara  shows  Bernardo  the  paper  that  proves 
to  him  he  is  betrayed,  he  says:  "Lost!  lost! 
Fool  that  I  was  to  trust  the  promise  of  a  king! 
Disgraced,  dishonored,  and  betrayed!  Where  find 
a  friend  to  help  me  now?  " 

Then  Zara  says:  "Here — ^in  the  child  who  clings 
to  thee  through  danger,  treachery,  and  death. 
Trust  to  the  love  of  one  whom  once  thou  loved 
and  who  still  longs  to  win  thee  back  to  happiness 
and  honor." 

Of  course  it  was  bully  of  Zara  to  look  at  it  that 
way,  especially  after  all  Bernardo  had  done.     I 


122  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

am  not  real  sure  but  that  she  ought  to  have  let 
the  old  villain  take  his  medicine.  But  it  pleased 
the  audience  because  she  was  so  generous,  and  they 
applauded  the  lines. 

The  last  part  of  the  scene,  where  Ernest  em- 
braces Zara,  was  a  ticklish  place  for  John  and  me. 
We  did  get  through  with  it  some  way,  though, 
and  the  curtain  went  down,  and  the  audience 
clapped  their  hands  till  we  all  had  to  go  out  and 
bow  for  the  last  time.  We  left  the  curtain  up 
then,  and  went  out  to  shake  hands  with  the  peo- 
ple who  had  come  to  see  our  show.  They  made 
an  awful  fuss  over  us  and  said  all  sorts  of  nice 
things.  I  guess  the  Barnstormers  have  made  a 
good  start. 

Well,  after  we  had  shaken  hands  all  around, 
Mr.  Osterman  got  us  all  on  the  stage  and  took 
some  flash-Kght  pictures  of  us  in  our  costumes. 
I  hope  the  pictures  turn  out  to  be  good. 

The  surprise  of  the  evening  came  when  we 
left  the  bam  and  went  up  to  the  house. 
Mother  and  father  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Jameson 
and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Donovan  were  in  the  dining- 
room  waiting  for  us,  and  there  was  ice-cream  and 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  123 

cake  for  everybody,  and  coffee  for  the  grown-ups 
and  candy  for  us. 

We  sat  around  and  had  a  good  time  for  about 
three-quarters  of  an  hour,  and  then  the  others 
left,  and  I  knew  all  at  once  that  I  was  very  tired 
and  sleepy  and  wanted  to  go  to  bed. 

Yesterday  was  some  day! 

We  are  talking  about  our  next  show  already. 
John  wants  us  to  give  "The  Greek  Slave,"  which 
is  the  next  play  in  the  "  Comic  Tragedies."  Hal 
wants  "Bianca,"  because  there  is  such  a  per- 
fectly good  villain  in  it,  and  Larry  wants  a  modern 
play  with  a  good  fimhy  part  in  it  that  he  can 
take.  I  think  I  am  for  "Bianca."  It  gives  me 
a  chance  to  die  and  come  back  to  earth  as  a  ghost, 
which  would  be  most  thrilling.  And  the  villain 
is  the  awfullest  villain  I  ever  came  across.  It's 
a  real  tragedy,  too.  Everybody  gets  killed,  and 
the  villain  who  does  the  foul  murders  finally  dies 
of  remorse,  which  is  the  way  he  ought  to  die. 
There  is  a  witch,  who  has  a  boiling  caldron,  like 
a  real  fairy-story  witch,  and  she  and  the  villain 
plot  the  kilHng  of  some  of  the  others.    The  play 


124  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

is  short,  which  is  in  its  favor,  for  we  will  not  have 
so  much  to  learn.  I  hope  Hal  and  I  can  get  the 
others  to  agree  with  us  on  "Bianca." 


CHAPTER  X 

Saturday,  April  8. 

Vacation  is  over!  I  hardly  know  where  the 
week  has  gone.  It  seemed  such  a  long  time  when 
I  thought  about  it  and  now  that  it  is  all  over  it 
seems  very  short.  But  it  has  been  a  great  week 
just  the  same. 

We  Barnstormers  have  stuck  pretty  close  to- 
gether all  the  time.  First,  of  course,  was  the  play, 
and  since  that  we  have  been  at  work  on  the  Barn- 
ville,  making  it  into  a  still  better  theatre. 

We  have  a  new  scene  made  out  of  wall-paper. 
It  is  to  use  when  we  want  a  room  scene,  or  a  "hall 
in  the  palace,"  or  a  "chamber  in  the  palace,"  or 
any  other  inside  setting.  This  new  scene  cost 
us  only  fifty  cents,  which  was  very  cheap,  and 
hardly  makes  a  hole  in  the  money  we  took  in  at 
the  play. 

But  if  that  new  scene  didn't  cost  much  in 
money,  we  made  up  for  that  in  work.    The  first 

MS 


126  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

thing  we  did  was  to  make  a  frame,  ten  feet  long 
and  eight  feet  wide,  out  of  edging  strips  from  the 
mill.  In  the  centre  of  this  we  made  a  doorway 
opening  three  feet  wide.  We  braced  the  whole 
frame  with  crosspieces,  and  then  fixed  it  in  place 
at  the  back  of  the  stage.  We  left  a  passage  three 
feet  wide  back  of  it,  and  that  made  it  come  just 
imder  the  beam  to  which  the  back  drop  is  tacked. 
When  we  want  to  use  the  back  drop  we  let  it 
down  in  front  of  the  frame,  and  when  we  want 
to  use  the  room  scene,  we  pull  the  back  drop  up 
and  let  it  rest  on  top  of  the  beam. 

Yesterday  afternoon,  after  we  had  the  frame 
made,  we  went  down  to  Charley  Strang's  wall- 
paper store  and  told  him  what  we  were  going  to 
do,  and  that  we  wanted  some  plain,  dark-green 
wall-paper.  He  had  two  rolls  left  of  just  the 
sort  we  wanted,  and  he  sold  us  these  for  twenty- 
five  cents  and  threw  in  enough  border  paper  to 
go  clear  across  the  top  of  our  scene.  The  border 
paper  is  all  gilded  up,  and  shows  great  big  pink 
roses  on  a  background  of  green  clouds.  It  is  very 
fancy  and  wiU  make  our  scene  look  'most  as  grand 
as  those  they  have  at  the  Opera  House. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  127 

To-day  we  put  the  paper  on  the  frame  and 
finished  the  scene.  Hal  and  I  made  a  big  pot 
of  paste — the  cooked-flour-and-water  kind,  Kke 
Charley  Strang  uses  when  he  comes  here  to  hang 
wall-paper — and  then  we  all  set  to  work  to  get 
the  paper  pasted  to  the  frame. 

We  put  paste  all  over  the  back  of  the  paper 
with  an  old  whitewash  brush,  and  then  we  folded 
the  pasty  sides  together,  just  like  the  real 
paper-hangers  do.  After  we  had  all  the  strips 
pasted  I  got  up  on  a  step-ladder  and  we  opened 
up  one  strip.  Then  I  pasted  it  to  the  top  of  the 
frame,  folding  part  of  it  over,  and  rubbing  it 
hard  so  it  would  stick,  and  John  and  Hal  stretched 
it  and  pasted  the  outside  edge  to  the  up-and-down 
edge  of  the  frame  and  the  bottom  to  the  bottom 
edge. 

The  second  strip  was  harder  to  put  up  because 
part  of  it  came  over  the  door  opening  and  had 
to  be  cut  and  fitted.  Another  thing  that  made  it 
hard  to  paste  was  the  joining  of  the  edge  with  the 
edge  of  the  first  strip.  There  was  nothing  back 
of  these  two  edges  to  make  a  firm  place  to  rub 
them  together,  so  one  of  us  had  to  stand  behind 


128  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

and  another  in  front,  and  just  press  the  edges 
together  until  they  stuck. 

Finally  we  got  the  other  two  strips  up  and 
were  ready  to  put  on  the  border.  That  wasn't 
so  hard  to  do,  for  it  was  all  in  one  piece,  and  it 
stuck  to  the  other  paper  quite  easily. 

As  the  paper  dried,  it  drew  up  and  stretched 
on  the  frame  as  tight  as  a  drumhead.  It  looks 
great!  The  only  trouble  is  that  we  will  have  to 
be  very  careful  not  to  punch  holes  in  it. 

We  masked — that's  what  the  "Hints  to  Ama- 
teur Thespians"  would  call  it — we  masked  the 
part  at  the  back  of  the  door  opening  with  an  old 
portiere  that  Larry  foimd  at  home  in  the  attic. 
When  the  door  is  supposed  to  open  outdoors  we 
can  put  a  few  branches  back  of  it  to  look  Kke  a 
tree. 

The  new  scene  certainly  does  look  good.  When 
you  look  at  it  you  can  hardly  beUeve  it  cost  only 
fifty  cents.  But  that  was  all.  The  edging  strips 
were  a  quarter,  and  the  wall-paper  the  same. 

We  still  have  over  two  dollars  in  the  treasury 
which  we  intend  to  save  and  use  for  the  next 
show. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  129 

What  that  next  show  is  to  be  we  have  not  yet 
decided,  but  I  think  Hal  and  I  will  carry  our  point, 
and  the  Barnstormers  will  give  "Bianca."  The 
other  plays  in  the  "Comic  Tragedies"  are  too 
long  or  too  hard  for  us  just  at  present.  "  Bianca  " 
is  short  and  easy,  and  the  parts  are  all  pretty 
good.  John  doesn't  Hke  the  part  of  Adalbert — 
he  is  the  hero — ^because  Adelhert  has  so  little  to 
do.  The  main  thing  he  does  is  to  die.  But  dy- 
ing would  be  quite  thrilHng — the  make-believe 
kind,  I  mean. 

The  only  part  for  Larry  is  a  witch,  but  he  says 
he  would  rather  not  have  a  part  this  time,  but  be 
stage-manager  and  property-man  and  run  the 
show  while  the  rest  of  us  do  the  acting.  Anyway, 
he  will  make  the  East-End  baseball  team  and  he 
won't  have  much  time  from  now  on  to  give  to 
the  Barnstormers. 

I  suppose  John  will  have  to  "double"  on  the 
part  of  the  witch  if  we  give  "Bianca,"  because 
he  is  about  the  only  one  who  will  be  free  during 
that  act.  He  doesn't  appear  at  the  same  time 
as  the  witch,  and  could  "double"  just  as  well  as 
not  on  the  hero  part  and  that. 


I30  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

I  do  not  know  when  we  will  give  "Bianca"  if 
we  do  decide  to  give  it.  Some  time,  I  suppose, 
in  about  a  month.  It  is  short  enough  to  get 
ready  without  so  very  much  work. 

Wednesday,  April  12. 

School  again!  Two  months  more  of  it,  then 
vacation,  and  after  that  I  will  start  to  high  school. 

You  always  think  when  vacation  comes  that 
you  never  want  to  see  school  again,  but  it  always 
seems  good  to  get  back  and  see  everybody. 

Every  one  at  school  has  heard  about  our  play. 
If  we  are  not  careful  the  whole  school  will  be  want- 
ing to  join  the  Barnstormers. 

We  had  a  short  meeting  to-night  and  talked 
about  our  next  play.  We  have  about  decided 
on  "Bianca."  John  and  Larry  have  come  around 
and  are  in  favor  of  it,  because  they  see  it  is  the 
only  thing  we  can  give  now. 

The  story  of  "Bianca^'  is  very  thrilling.  It  is 
a  real  tragedy,  which  means  that  the  people  all 
get  killed  off.  Of  course,  it  is  very  serious,  but 
that  doesn^t  matter.    We  all  prefer  serious  plays. 

There  are  five  characters.  Bianca,  who  is  the 
heroine,  is  a  Spanish  lady.    Adelbert  is  her  lover. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  '   131 

Htum,  the  villain,  is  also  in  love  with  Bianca, 
but  she  does  not  Hke  him  and  will  not  listen  to 
his  suit.  Then  there's  the  witch  Hilda,  and  Jtuin, 
who  is  Bianca^s  page. 

In  the  first  act,  which  takes  place  in  a  wood, 
Huon  enters  and  tells  of  his  love  for  Bianca  and 
his  hatred  for  Adelbert.  He  knows  that  the  lovers 
are  to  meet  on  that  very  spot  later  in  the  evening, 
so  he  hides  in  the  bushes  to  watch  them.  Bianca 
and  Adelbert  come,  and  with  Huon  listening  to 
them  they  pHght  their  everlasting  love.  They 
use  beautiful  language,  and  the  scene  is  very  fine. 
At  last  Adelbert  says  he  must  go,  but  first  prom- 
ises to  sing  beneath  Bianca^s  window  on  the  fol- 
lowing night.  The  lovers  are  supposed  to  sing 
a  duet  at  parting,  because  the  play  is  an  operatic 
tragedy,  but  we  are  going  to  cut  out  the  singing — 
all  except  that  which  is  absolutely  necessary. 
Well,  Adelbert  leaves,  and  Bianca  starts  to  go 
home.  As  she  turns  to  go  she  says :  "  Ah,  love,  thou 
magic  power,  thus  ever  make  my  breast  thy  home. 
Adieu,  dear  spot!    I  fly  to  happiness  and " 

Then  Huon  steps  out  and  says  "Me!" 

Bianca  shrieks  and  tries  to  escape. 

Huon  makes  her  listen  to  his  words  of  love, 


132  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

but  she  will  not  have  anything  to  do  with  him. 
She  tells  him  she  hates  him  and  she  wishes  never 
to  see  him  more.  That  makes  him  awfully  mad, 
and  when  she  is  gone  he  swears  to  win  her  and 
at  the  same  time  take  a  deep  revenge. 

The  second  scene  is  old  Hilda's  cave  in  the 
forest.  Hilda  is  supposed  to  be  bending  over  a 
caldron  when  the  curtain  rises.  That  will  give 
us  a  fine  opportunity  for  a  good  setting.  We  can 
pile  up  wood,  and  stuff  the  chinks  with  red  paper, 
and  have  a  small  lamp  inside  to  make  it  look 
like  fire.  Then  on  top  of  this  we  can  put  an  old 
iron  kettle  and  fill  it  with  boihng  water.  I  don't 
know  yet  how  we  can  make  the  entrance  to  the 
cave,  but  we  will  figure  it  out  some  way. 

Huon  comes  to  old  Hilda  for  a  love  philter 
which  will  make  the  person  to  whom  he  gives  it 
fall  madly  in  love  with  him.  His  plan  is  to  give 
this  to  Bianca,  so  she  will  cease  to  love  Adelbert 
and  fall  in  love  with  him.  Hilda  gives  him  a 
little  bottle  of  blood-red  stuff  that  she  says  will 
do  the  work.  He  goes  off  quite  happy  because 
he  thinks  that  now  he  can  make  Bianca  his.  But 
old  Hilda  laughs  when  he  is  gone  because  she 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  133 

has  given  him  a  deadly  draught  of  poison.  "Poor 
fool,"  she  says,  "thou  little  thinkest  thy  love- 
charm  is  a  deadly  draught,  and  they  who  quaff 
it  die.  When  thou  shalt  seek  thy  lady,  hoping 
for  her  love,  a  dead  bride  thou  wilt  win.  Ha! 
ha!  Old  Eilda^s  spells  work  silently  and  well." 
In  the  third  scene  Huon  stops  Juan,  who  is  Bi- 
anca^s  page,  as  he  is  taking  wine  to  his  lady. 
Hiwn  asks  the  page  to  stoop  down  and  fasten  his 
shoe,  and  while  the  boy  is  kneehng  he  empties 
the  little  bottle  into  the  glass  of  wine.  He  thinks 
now  that  he  has  won  Bianca,  and  so  he  says,  or 
sings,  whichever  he  wants  to  do: 

"Ha!  ha!  't  is  done!  't  is  done! 
My  vengeance  now  is  won. 
And  ere  to-morrow's  sun  shall  set, 
Thou,  haughty  lady,  shall  forget 
The  lover  who  now  hastes  to  thee, 
And  smile  alone,  alone  on  me." 

The  fourth  scene  is  in  Bianca^ s  castle — "A 
moonHt  balcony."  Bianca  is  waiting  for  AdelberL 
Soon  she  hears  him  singing  beneath  the  balcony. 


134  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

"The  moon  is  up,  wake,  lady,  wake! 
My  bark  is  moored  on  yonder  lake, 
The  stars'  soft  eyes  alone  can  see 
My  meeting,  dear  one,  here  with  thee. 

"  Wake,  dearest,  wake !   Lean  from  thy  bower, 
The  moonlight  gleams  on  tree  and  flower, 
The  summer  sky  smiles  soft  above; 
Look  down  on  me,  thou  star  of  love." 

We  didn't  know  how  we  would  manage  to  have 
this  simg,  because  John  doesn't  sing,  but  Hal 
thought  of  a  way  out  of  the  difficulty.  Larry's 
cousin  sings  very  well,  and  has  been  quite  interested 
in  the  Barnstormers,  so  we  are  going  to  ask  him  to 
sing  the  song  to  a  mandoHn  accompaniment.  I 
will  play  that,  for  I  can  play  the  mandoHn  fairly 
well.  I  am  fixing  up  an  air  now  to  go  with  the 
song.  Hal  thinks  I  ought  to  play  before  the  cur- 
tain goes  up,  but  I  think  differently,  and,  since  I 
am  the  one  who  would  have  to  do  the  playing,  I 
guess  my  "think"  will  go. 

Well,  after  Adelbert  has  sung  this  song  he  climbs 
up  on  the  balcony  and  joins  Bianca.    They  get 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  135 

quite  spooney,  and  tell  each  other  how  deep  their 
love  is,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  Adelhert  says 
he  is  weary — not  of  making  love,  I  guess,  but  just 
general  weariness,  maybe  from  rowing  across  the 
lake — so  Bianca  offers  him  the  wine  Juan  has 
just  brought  her,  and  he  drinks  it.  But  it  is  the 
wine  that  Euon  poisoned  with  the  supposed  love 
philter.  Adelhert  has  barely  swallowed  it  when 
he  cries  out:  "Ah!  What  is  this? — a  deadly  pang 
hath  seized  me.  All  grows  dark  before  mine  eyes. 
I  cannot  see  thee.  Yon  cup — 't  was  poisoned!  I 
am  dying!  dying!" 

That  drives  Bianca  about  crazy.  She  tries  to 
save  him,  but  it  is  no  use.  Old  Hilda's  poison  is 
too  strong.  Then  she  wishes  to  join  him  in  death, 
but  the  cup  is  empty  and  she  cannot  die  by  the 
same  draught.  So  she  faints  on  Adelherfs  dead 
body,  and  the  curtain  goes  down. 

The  fifth  scene  is  the  garden  of  Bianca^ s  castle. 
Bianca  is  mourning  for  her  lost  Adelhert.  She 
sings  a  song  about  some  faded  flowers  that  are 
all  that  remain  of  a  bouquet  he  once  gave  her. 

"Faded  flowers,  faded  flowers. 
They  are  all  now  left  to  cherish; 


136  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

For  the  hopes  and  joys  of  my  young  life's 

spring 
I  have  seen  so  darkly  perish. 

"Cold,  ah,  cold,  in  the  lone,  dark  grave, 
My  murdered  love  lies  low, 
And  death  alone  can  bring  sure  rest 
To  this  broken  heart's  deep  woe. 

"Faded  flowers,  faded  flowers. 
They  are  all  now  left  to  cherish; 
For  ah,  his  dear  hand  gathered  them, 
And  my  love  can  never  perish." 

I  am  afraid  I  shall  have  a  hard  time  singing 
this,  but  I  am  going  to  try,  and  I  mean  to  play 
my  own  accompaniment,  too.  That  ought  to  make 
quite  a  hit.  Maybe  if  I  play  well  people  will 
npt  notice  that  I  sing  badly. 

Just  as  Bianca  finishes  this  song,  Emm  comes 
in.  Bianca  does  not  want  to  have  anything  to 
do  with  him.  "Fiend!  Demon!"  she  says. 
"Touch  me  not  with  hands  that  murdered  him. 
Hence!    Out  of  my  sight— away!" 

But  Eiwn  will  not  go.    He  tries  to  make  Bi- 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  137 

anca  listen  to  his  love,  and  when  she  will  not  he 
tells  her  that  he  did  not  murder  Adelhert  on  pur- 
pose, but  that  he  put  a  supposed  love  philter  in 
her  wine,  Httle  dreaming  that  it  was  poison. 

Bianca  does  not  beUeve  him,  and  tells  him  she 
will  betray  him  as  the  murderer  of  AdelberL  This 
makes  him  very  angry  and  he  stabs  her.  She 
dies  crying:   "Adelbert,  I  come,  I  come!" 

Then  Huon  is  very  sorry  and  doesn't  know  what 
to  do.    But  he  hears  some  one  coming,  so  he  flees. 

The  last  act  is  in  Elton's  room.  He  is  asleep. 
Blanco's  ghost  enters  and  touches  him.  He  starts 
up  wildly,  sees  that  it  is  the  spirit  of  Bianca,  and, 
after  begging  her  to  leave  him,  dies  of  remorse 
and  fright. 

I  think  that  is  some  tragedy  all  right.  Wo- 
0-0-0-0!  It  will  be  great  to  come  back  as  the 
ghost. 

We  are  going  to  fix  up  the  stage  in  the  best  way 
we  can.  We  have  the  new  scene  to  use,  and  we 
are  planning  to  fix  up  a  garden  scene  that  will  be  a 
corker.  We  will  get  plants  in  pots  to  put  about, 
and  have  a  balustrade,  like  you  see  in  garden 
scenes  on  the  stage,  and  have  a  rustic  bench  for 


138  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Bianca  to  sit  on.  It  will  be  a  very  pretty  scene, 
I  think. 

The  witch's  cave  gives  us  another  fine  chance 
for  a  good  scene.  We  haven't  been  able  to  de- 
cide how  we  will  fix  it  yet,  but  we  will  find  a  way. 

Next  week  we  intend  to  copy  off  the  parts  and 
start  learning  them.  We  will  have  a  few  reading 
rehearsals  and  then  begin  on  the  regular  ones. 
We  ought  to  be  able  to  have  the  show  ready  in  a 
month. 

We  do  not  know  who  to  have  for  Juan,  Bianca^s 
page.  It  ought  to  be  a  Kttle  kid,  but  I  don't 
know  any  Httle  kids  that  I  would  want  around. 
Hal  suggested  Herbert  Hilton,  who  is  in  the 
seventh  grade  and  small  for  his  age.  Probably  we 
will  have  him,  since  we  all  Hke  him  pretty  well. 

Of  course,  "Bianca"  isn't  a  sure  thing  yet,  but 
I  think  it  will  be.  It  is  a  good  play,  and  not  too 
long.  If  we  give  it  within  a  month  we  will  prob- 
ably not  give  any  more  shows  till  after  school  is 
out.  Say,  it  will  be  great  this  summer  when  we 
have  a  fine,  long  vacation  with  nothing  to  do  but 
mow  the  lawns  and  sprinkle  the  streets  and  give 
shows! 


CHAPTER  XI 

Tuesday,  April  i8. 

Sunday  I  had  a  talk  with  dad  about  the  Barn- 
stormers, and  I  told  him  I  didn't  like  this  busi- 
ness of  playing  girls'  parts  all  the  time.  He 
laughed  and  said  he  didn't  blame  me,  but  that  I 
shouldn't  feel  badly  because  I  had  historical  prec- 
edent for  doing  it.  Historical  precedent  didn't 
console  me  much  because  I  had  no  idea  what 
it  meant.  But  dad  explained  that  it  meant  that 
other  people  had  done  a  thing  before  you  did 
it — that  it  had  once  been  the  common  way  of 
doing  a  thing. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "was  it  ever  common  for  boys 
to  play  girls'  parts  in  plays?" 

"Not  only  common,"  said  dad,  "but  the  rule. 
There  were  no  women  on  the  stage  at  one  time, 
and  all  the  female  parts  were  taken  by  boys  and 
young  men." 

"When  was  that?"  I  asked.    "Must  have  been 

a  long  time  ago." 

139 


140  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

"Yes,"  dad  said,  "it  was  a  long  time  ago. 
About  three  hundred  years  ago,  to  be  exact. 
When  Shakespeare  wrote  his  plays,  and  they  were 
given  in  the  old  Globe  theatre  in  Southwark, 
which  is  across  the  Thames  from  London,  the 
*  leading  ladies'  were  boys  very  little  older  than 
yourself.  Ophelia,  and  Desdemona,  and  Lady 
Macbeth,  and  all  the  other  great  heroines  of 
Shakespeare,  were  'created' — as  we  say  to-day 
when  a  role  is  played  for  the  first  time — ^by  boys; 
and  none  of  them  were  ever  played  by  women 
until  long  after  Shakespeare  was  dead.'' 

Then  dad  took  down  a  book  he  has  which  tells 
about  the  companies  of  actors  in  Shakespeare's 
time,  and  about  the  boys  who  played  the  female 
parts  in  the  plays.  Most  often  these  boys  be- 
longed to  some  of  the  men  in  the  company — that 
is,  they  were  children  of  these  men,  or  had  been 
adopted  by  them.  So,  in  the  old  playbills,  some 
of  which  were  given  in  the  book,  the  boys  who 
played  the  female  parts  are  not  named,  but  just 
put  down  as  So-and-so's  "boy. "  Fimny,  isn't  it? 
I  doubt  if  they  were  always  well  treated,  and 
yet  on  the  whole  they  must  have  had  a  pretty 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  141 

good  time  of  it.  The  actors  were  a  happy-go- 
lucky  lot  who  oftentimes  didn't  know  where  their 
next  meal  was  to  come  from,  but  shared  what 
they  had  with  one  another,  and  took  their  good 
fortime  and  bad  fortime  smilingly.  So  I  imagine 
the  boys  in  the  companies  liked  the  life  and  en- 
joyed themselves,  though  they  had  to  work  hard 
learning  long  speeches  and  rehearsing  plays. 

The  crowds  that  came  to  the  theatres  were  a 
jolly  lot,  too,  and  the  boys  probably  had  friends 
among  the  apprentices  in  the  pit.  The  way  the 
theatres  were  built  then  they  were  open  to  the 
sky  in  the  centre,  and  only  the  stage  and  the 
rows  of  galleries  were  roofed  over.  The  open 
part  was  called  the  pit,  and  ran  back  from  the 
stage  to  the  rows  of  galleries  at  the  sides  and 
rear.  This  was  the  cheapest  part  of  the  theatre, 
for  it  had  neither  seats  nor  roof.  The  appren- 
tices were  boys  who  were  "boxmd  out''  to  learn 
trades.  They  didn't  have  much  money,  but  they 
liked  the  theatre,  and  so  they  saw  the  play  from 
the  pit,  standing  just  as  near  the  stage  as  they 
could  crowd.  People  who  wanted  to  pay  more 
sat  in  the  galleries,  and  those  who  wanted  the 


142  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

most  expensive  seats  sat  on  chairs  which  were 
placed  right  on  the  stage,  though  over  to  one 
side,  so  as  not  to  bother  the  actors. 

But  the  theatrical  companies  didn't  always 
stay  in  London.  They  went  on  tours  just  as 
they  do  to-day.  Only  there  were  no  railroads 
then,  so  the  players  had  to  travel  in  wagons 
from  town  to  town.  The  people  outside  of  Lon- 
don looked  on  the  actors  in  these  travelling  com- 
panies as  no  better  than  tramps  and  vagabonds, 
and  often  the  mayor  of  a  town  wouldn't  let  them 
play  in  it  at  all.  Maybe  they  were  not  any  too 
honest,  but  that  old  saying  dad  and  I  found  in 
that  book  seems  a  Httle  hard  on  them.  The 
women  used  to  call  to  one  another:  "Take  in 
your  washing!    The  players  are  coming!" 

There  were  no  regular  theatres  outside  of  Lon- 
don, but  the  courtyards  of  the  inns,  as  the  hotels 
were  called  then,  made  fine  places  for  plays  to  be 
given,  for  they  were  square,  or  oblong,  with  gal- 
leries, or  porches,  running  all  around,  one  above 
the  other.  When  a  company  wanted  to  give  a 
play,  a  platform  was  put  up  at  one  end  of  the 
courtyard,  the  curtains  which  served  as  scenery 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  143 

were  hung,  and  the  audience  sat  in  the  galleries, 
or  stood  about  in  the  yard  itself.  In  our  copy 
of  "Pickwick"  one  of  the  illustrations  shows  an 
old  inn  courtyard,  and  from  that  it  is  easy  to  see 
how  these  courtyards  were  fine  places  to  give 
plays. 

In  addition  to  the  companies  of  grown-up  ac- 
tors there  were  children's  companies  in  Shake- 
speare's time,  too.  The  companies  of  regular  ac- 
tors didn't  Hke  these  children's  companies  at  all, 
because  they  took  business  away  from  them  and 
were  favorites  at  court,  where  they  appeared  be- 
fore the  queen  more  often  than  the  grown-up 
actors  did. 

One  of  these  companies  was  called  "Paul's 
Boys,"  because  it  was  made  up  of  the  choir-boys 
of  Saint  Paul's  cathedral  in  London.  These  boys 
lived  together  at  the  expense  of  the  church,  many 
of  them  being  orphans,  and  others  coming  from 
poor  families.  A  choirmaster  had  charge  of  them, 
and  to  take  up  their  spare  time  he  trained  them 
to  give  plays.  Many  of  these  plays  were  musical, 
but  often  they  were  just  straight  dramatic  per- 
formances. 


144  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Another  company  was  known  as  the  "  Children 
of  the  Chapel  Royal,"  because  it  was  made  up  of 
the  choir-boys  of  the  queen^s  chapel.  This  com- 
pany performed  quite  often  at  court  before  Eliza- 
beth. 

But  it  was  quite  different  from  the  way  the 
Barnstormers  give  plays,  because  these  choir-boys 
were  trained  by  the  choirmaster,  and  their  per- 
formances were  very  serious  affairs.  Still,  I  im- 
agine they  had  some  good  times,  too.  They 
wouldn't  have  been  kids  if  they  hadn't.  It  must 
have  been  fun  acting  at  the  queen's  revels,  and 
having  Elizabeth  herself,  maybe,  come  up  and  pat 
you  on  the  head  when  the  show  was  over,  and 
tell  you  what  a  nice  boy  you  were,  and  maybe 
give  you  cakes  and  sweetmeats.  But  I  guess  she 
didn't  always  do  that,  for  the  book  tells  about 
one  time  when  the  Children  of  the  Chapel  Royal 
acted  before  EHzabeth  at  Christmas,  and  some- 
thing in  the  play  was  so  displeasing  to  her  that 
she  went  into  a  fit  of  temper  then  and  there.  She 
refused  to  let  the  play  go  on,  and  the  poor  kids 
had  to  go  home  without  any  pat  on  the  head,  or 
any  cakes,  or  anything.    It  was  several  years  be- 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  145 

fore  Elizabeth  would  have  this  company  appear 
before  her  again,  but  later  the  Children  of  the 
Chapel  Royal  gave  a  play  at  court  every  Christ- 
mas. 

Like  the  companies  of  grown-up  actors,  the 
children's  companies  made  tours,  giving  their 
plays  in  all  the  towns  near  London.  They  were 
better  received  by  the  townspeople,  because  they 
were  kids  I  suppose.  They  gave  their  perform- 
ances in  the  inn  courtyards,  Kke  the  other  com- 
panies, for  there  were  no  other  places  where  plays 
could  be  given.  Sometimes,  however,  they  were 
invited  to  give  a  private  performance  at  the  house 
of  a  great  noble,  and  then  the  play  would  be  given 
in  the  big  hall  of  the  house. 

In  addition  to  the  Children  of  the  Chapel  Royal 
and  Paul's  Boys,  there  were  several  other  chil- 
dren's companies  in  Shakespeare's  time.  When 
Queen  Elizabeth  visited  Windsor  Castle  the  choir- 
boys of  the  chapel  gave  a  play,  but  they  didn't 
make  a  business  of  doing  it  as  some  of  the  other 
boys'  choirs  did. 

Three  of  the  boys'  schools  of  London  had  dra- 
matic companies,  too.    These  were  known  as  the 


146  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

"Children  of  Westminster  School,"  the  "Children 
of  the  Merchant  Tailors'  School,"  and  the  "Chil- 
dren of  Eton." 

Later,  after  Elizabeth's  death,  when  King  James 
I  came  to  the  throne,  a  company  known  as  the 
"Children  of  the  Queen's  Revels"  gave  plays  at 
court.  About  the  same  time,  or  maybe  a  little 
later,  a  company  called  "Beeston's  Boys,"  from 
a  man  named  Bees  ton  who  ran  it,  gave  plays  in 
one  of  the  regular  London  theatres. 

These  boys  were  picked  up  off  the  street,  and 
a  few  were  kidnapped.  They  were  all  practically 
owned  by  Beeston,  who  was  accused  of  treating 
them  pretty  badly.  The  company  was  quite  pop- 
ular in  London  for  a  time,  but  finally  went  to 
pieces  because  Beeston  got  into  trouble  with  the 
king  over  something  that  was  said  in  one  of  the 
plays. 

Beeston's  Boys  were  the  last  children's  company 
of  any  importance.  In  1649,  when  King  Charles 
I  was  executed,  and  the  Round  Heads  came  into 
power,  the  theatres  were  all  closed,  not  to  open 
again  imtil  King  Charles  II  came  to  the  throne 
in  1660.    When  the  theatres  did  reopen,  women 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  147 

began  to  appear  on  the  stage,  and  female  parts 
were  no  longer  taken  by  boys. 

It  does  make  me  feel  different  to  know  all  this. 
I  don't  think  I  shall  mind  playing  Bianca  at  all 
now.  And  somehow  the  Barnstormers  mean  a 
great  deal  more  to  me.  That  was  a  big  hunch  I 
had  up  in  the  bam  loft  that  rainy  Saturday  after- 
noon! 

Sunday  April  23. 

"Bianca'*  is  coming  along  well,  even  with  all  the 
other  things  we  are  doing.  Baseball  takes  a  lot 
of  our  time,  and  other  things  take  it,  too.  When 
the  weather  is  nice  you  can  do  so  many  things 
you  can't  do  when  it's  bad.  You  just  feel,  some- 
times, as  though  you  must  go  fishing;  and  then 
again  you  feel  like  you  had  to  find  out  whether 
the  brown  thrush  that  nested  in  the  wild-rose 
bush  back  in  the  pasture  is  there  again  this  year; 
and  the  bluebird  in  the  old  orchard  has  the  same 
branch  in  the  same  apple-tree.  Saturdays  just 
go  without  your  hardly  knowing  that  they  have 
happened  at  all.  You  work  in  the  garden,  and 
rake  the  leaves  off  the  lawn  in  the  morning,  and 


148  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

play  baseball  in  the  afternoon — and  Saturday  is 
gone! 

Still,  as  I  said,  "Bianca"  is  coming  along.  Hal 
is  just  great  as  the  villain.  He  likes  the  part 
better  than  that  of  Bernardo  in  our  first  play. 
Euon  is  such  a  bloody  old  customer  that  it  is 
great  sport  to  act  the  part.  Hal  growls  and 
rumbles  through  it  like  a  real  stage  villain. 

Of  his  two  parts,  John  likes  the  witch  better 
than  the  hero.  He  is  going  to  be  good  as  old 
Hilda,  too.  He  gets  his  voice  way  up,  so  that  it 
soimds  cracked  and  shrill,  and  when  he  laughs 
he  cackles  in  the  most  horrible  way  you  could 
imagine.  He  makes  the  cold  chills  fairly  do  a 
cake-walk  up  and  down  your  back-bone. 

We  find  "Bianca"  much  easier  than  we  found 
"The  Captive  of  Castile."  Maybe  it  is  because 
this  is  not  our  first  attempt,  and  that  was.  But 
there  are  other  reasons,  too,  chief  of  which  is  the 
fact  that  the  play  is  only  about  half  as  long. 

We  know  the  first  and  second  scenes  and  are 
learning  the  third.  Since  there  are  only  six 
scenes  in  the  play,  we  can  soon  have  it  ready. 
We  are  planning  to  give  it  May  6th. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  149 

Hal  and  I  made  a  change  in  the  Bamville  the 
other  day  that  will  give  us  more  room  for  dress- 
ing and  an  easier  way  to  reach  the  second  floor 
than  the  way  we  have  been  going,  which  was  by 
a  ladder  up  the  hay  chute.  We  cut  a  hole  into 
the  carriage  house  from  the  rear  of  the  stage  and 
put  a  ladder  up  to  that.  We  moved  the  dressing- 
rooms  then  from  the  old  stalls,  which  had  clay 
floors  and  were  still  smelly,  out  to  the  carriage 
house,  which  has  a  wooden  floor  and  is  much 
nicer. 

I  mustn't  forget  to  mention  that  the  part  of 
Juan  is  to  be  played  by  Herbert  Hilton.  We 
asked  him  yesterday.  He  is  to  become  a  real 
Barnstormer  at  the  initiation  next  Saturday. 

We  are  planning  a  great  time.  We  are  going 
to  have  a  thing  you  call  a  ritual,  which  Hal  says 
is  necessary  in  all  secret  societies,  and  then  we 
are  going  to  have  a  second  degree  followed  by  a 
spread. 

The  second  degree  is  where  you  do  the  funny 
stunts.  Of  course  we  are  not  going  to  hurt  Her- 
bert, but  we  intend  to  have  some  fun.  Hal  says 
he  has  planned  a  goat,  made  out  of  a  rocking- 


I50  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

chair  and  a  fur  rug,  that  ought  to  make  a  live  goat 
seem  as  tame  as  a  pet  canary. 

Hal  and  John  and  I  are  going  to  write  the 
ritual,  which  is  to  be  very  solemn  and  awful, 
some  time  this  week.  Hal  got  the  idea  from  a 
book  about  the  Knights  of  the  Golden  Circle, 
who  used  to  have  meetings  in  caves  back  during 
the  time  of  the  Civil  War. 

Our  high  potentate  is  to  be  called  Thespis,  and 
Shakespeare  is  to  be  the  guide  and  friend  of  the 
"candidate.'' 

The  initiation  is  to  be  held  in  the  barn — I  mean 
the  Bamville — but  the  spread  will  come  off  in 
my  room  up  at  the  house.  We  are  going  to  have 
ice-cream  and  cake  and  grape  juice.  Larry 
wanted  mince  pie,  but  John  said  we  would  prob- 
ably dream  of  our  grandmothers'  ghosts  without 
it,  and  he  didn't  care  to  have  any  other  ghosts 
brought  on  the  scene,  not  to  mention  feehng  like 
you  never  wanted  to  get  up  the  morning  after. 
So  the  mince  pie  is  left  out. 


CHAPTER  XII 

Thursday,  April  27 

Hal  and  I  have  been  working  on  our  ritual 
during  all  the  spare  moments  we  could  get,  and 
this  afternoon  we  finished  it.  We  are  quite  proud 
of  our  job.  The  ritual  soimds  fine  and  is  writ- 
ten in  most  beautiful  language.  But  I  mustn't 
brag,  because  Hal  did  most  of  the  writing. 

We  couldn't  decide  at  first  whether  to  write 

the  ritual  in  poetry  or  not,  but  we  finally  decided 

it  would  sound  better  rhymed.    Rhyming  isn't 

hard  to  do  at  all.     Since  trying  it  I  quite  have  a 

notion  to  be  a  poet  instead  of  a  dramatist.    Only, 

the  newspapers  say  poetry  is  out  of  date,  and  all 

dramatists  are  becoming  millionaires,  so  I  guess 

I  had  better  stick  to  the  first  ambition.    When 

you  want  to  write  poetry  all  you  have  to  do  is 

to  turn  to  the  rhyming  dictionary,  which  is  found 

in  the  back  part  of  most  regular  dictionaries, 

and  start  in.    Of  course,  what  you  write  won't 

always  sound  hke  Tennyson  or  Longfellow,  but 

151 


152  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

it  will  be  quite  as  good  as  the  poetry  that  is  on 
the  inside  of  the  town  newspaper  every  Satur- 
day. 

Before  we  began  to  write,  Hal  and  I  planned 
just  what  was  to  happen  and  about  how  long  the 
ritual  was  to  be.  There  are  four  persons  in  it— 
Shakespeare,  who  is  the  guide  of  the  candidate; 
Thespis,  who  is  the  chief  high  exalted  ruler;  and 
two  actors  who  give  advice  and  counsel  to  the 
candidate. 

Before  the  ritual  begins  the  candidate  is  to 
be  bHndfolded.  Then  we  are  going  to  walk  him 
around  in  circles  till  he  doesn't  know  where  he 
is.  After  that  he  is  to  be  left  for  five  minutes' 
silent  "meditation" — ^which  we  think  will  get 
him  properly  scared.  About  the  time  he  is  be- 
ginning to  think  of  making  a  break  for  home, 
Shakespeare,  his  friend  and  guide,  enters.  He 
knocks  three  times  on  the  floor  with  his  staff,  and 
then  speaks: 

"  Greetings,  my  friend,  but  first,  I'll  give  my  name, 
Which  may,  perhaps,  be  not  imknown  to  fame; 
For  I  am  William  Shakespeare,  and  your  friend. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  153 

Who  comes  to  lead  you  to  your  journey's  end. 
For  IVe  been  told  a  Barnstormer  you'd  be, 
And  this  night  all  the  mysteries  would  see. 
Come — let  me  guide  you." 

Then  he  takes  the  candidate's  arm  and  they 
walk  aroimd  in  a  circle.  After  that  Shakespeare 
knocks  three  times  on  the  floor  with  his  staff. 

Thespis,  the  chief  high  exalted  ruler  of  the 
Ancient  Order  of  Barnstormers,  is  seated  on  a 
throne.  He  is  all  draped  up  in  a  sheet  and  has 
a  long  white  beard.  The  two  actors,  each  in  a 
black  mask,  stand  on  either  side  of  him. 

Thespis  speaks: 

"What  ho!    And  who  doth  wish  to  enter  here? 
If  he  be  worthy,  bid  him  then  good  cheer." 

Shakespeare  says: 

"I  bring  a  would-be  Thespian  to  your  throne; 
I  found  him  waiting  friendless  and  alone; 
I  brought  him  thither,  and  I  beg  to  bring 
Him  in  unto  yom:  feet,  oh  mighty  King! " 


154  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Then  Thespis,  after  a  pause,  speaks  again. 
John  is  to  play  Thespis,  and  we  want  him  to  do 
the  speeches  in  his  best  actor  manner. 

"If  he  be  worthy,  let  him  then  into 
The  presence  of  the  royal,  chosen  few." 

Shakespeare  brings  in  the  candidate.  They 
walk  about  in  a  circle  again.  The  First  Actor 
stops  them.    He  says: 

"What  ho,   and  who  is  this?    The  password, 
stand!" 

Shakespeare  says: 

Barnstormers'  Barnville ! ' "  (This  is  the  pass- 
word, and  is  given  in  a  whisper.)  "One  who'd 
join  your  band." 

First  Actor.  Before  he  is  admitted  to  our  King, 
He  first  must  know  one  sacred,  secret  thing: 
The  password,  which  in  whispers  must  be  spoke: 
"Barnstormers'  Barnville,"  and  it  is  no  joke! 
Pass  on  your  way,  take  care  not  to  forget: 
"Barnstormers'  Barnville";  friend,  I'm  glad  we've 
met. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  155 

Shakespeare  says: 

"  Come  now,  my  friend,  we  must  be  on  our  way, 
And  reach  the  end  of  this,  our  noble  play." 

They  walk  around  in  a  circle  again.  The  Sec- 
ond Actor  hails  them: 

"What  ho!    Friends,  travellers,  't  is  the  King  ye 
seek? 
Shakespeare.  Even  so;   we  go  in  spirit  mild 

and  meek. 
Second  Actor.  Before  the  throne  you  are  al- 
lowed to  reach, 

I  have  three  things  I  unto  you  must  teach. 

First,  know  the  actor  's  art's  a  noble  thing; 

Second,  that  Thespis,  who  is  here  our  King, 

In  Greece  first  introduced  the  actor's  art 

In  which  each  man  must  play  his  Httle  part. 

Thirds  that  here  each  man  must  be  loyal  and  true. 

And  always  strive  his  very  best  to  do." 

Once  more  they  pass  on.  This  time  they  come 
up  to  Thespis,  The  candidate  has  his  bhndfold 
taken  off  and  is  made  to  bow  before  the  throne. 
Then  Thespis  speaks: 


iS6  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

"Greetings,  traveller,  greetings,  loyal  friend; 
At  last  you  now  have  reached  your  journey's  end. 
A  Barnstormer  you  are,  or  soon  will  be. 
When  you  have  had  the  second  high  degree." 

Then  the  candidate  is  blindfolded  again  and  the 
fun  starts. 

We  do  not  know  yet  just  what  we  will  do  in  the 
second  degree,  but  it  is  to  be  funny  and  harmless. 
Hal  is  quite  sure  that  his  patent  goat  will  be  an 
improvement  over  anything  else  that  ever  existed, 
live  goats  included.  He  first  intended  to  use  only 
one  rocker,  but  he  uses  two  in  the  improved  model. 
The  part  where  you  ride  is  covered  with  a  fur 
rug  so  it  will  feel  nice  and  woolly. 

We  have  not  yet  decided  on  the  other  stimts. 

Friday,  April  28. 

Another  week  gone!  I  am  glad  to-morrow  is 
Saturday. 

"Bianca"  is  coming  along  fine,  so  we  have  de- 
cided to  give  it  a  week  from  to-morrow  night. 
That  means  we  will  have  to  hustle,  but  I  am  sure 
we  can  have  the  play  ready.    Most  of  the  work 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  157 

will  fall  to  Hal  and  me,  for  John,  being  in  high 
school,  has  all  sorts  of  things  to  take  up  his  time, 
and  Larry  is  so  busy  with  baseball  that  the 
Barnstormers  hardly  count.  We  will  have  Her- 
bert to  help  us,  and,  since  he  is  a  new  member, 
we  intend  to  make  him  do  a  Httle  more  than  his 
share.  That  may  not  sound  very  nice,  but  I  think 
it  is  quite  right  that  he  should  earn  his  member- 
ship in  the  Barnstormers.  Herbert  has  been  to 
rehearsals  this  week  and  has  done  very  well  with 
the  part  of  Juan.  He  is  a  nice  little  kid,  and  we 
all  like  him. 

We  are  going  to  tell  about  "Bianca"  in  to- 
morrow's Gimlet,  I  helped  write  the  stuff  and 
also  helped  Hal  set  up  the  paper  to-day.  We 
have  written  the  "copy"  for  the  bills  and  pro- 
gramme, but  those  are  not  set  up  yet. 

Herbert's  first  appearance  on  any  stage  is  good 
advertising  dope,  and  we  are  going  to  use  it  to 
the  Hmit.  The  fact  is  announced  in  the  bills  and 
on  the  programme,  and  will  be  announced  from 
the  stage  the  night  of  the  show. 

The  scenery  for  "Bianca''  is  'most  all  ready, 
except  the  garden  scene  and  the  witch's  cavern. 


158  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Hal  and  I  are  going  to  make  a  balustrade  out  of 
pasteboard  colored  with  crayons  to  use  in  the 
garden  scene.  We  wanted  some  steps  and  a  plat- 
form at  the  back  of  the  stage,  but  I  am  afraid  we 
can't  have  them.  An3rway,  the  leaves  are  all  out 
on  the  trees  now,  and  we  can  have  lots  of  green 
branches  to  bank  in  the  back  of  the  stage.  The 
garden  scene  will  be  easy  compared  with  that 
witch's  cavern.  There  is  supposed  to  be  a  sort 
of  entrance  to  a  cave  at  one  side  of  the  stage. 
In  this  stands  the  caldron  where  old  Hilda  mixes 
her  magic  potions.  How  we  are  to  make  that 
cave  is  beyond  me.  Hal  thinks  we  can  make  a 
frame  out  of  edging  strips  and  cover  it  with  some 
roofing  paper  we  foimd  in  the  bam.  But  that 
would  take  a  lot  of  time,  and  I  don't  think  the 
result  would  look  much  like  a  cave.  But  we  will 
find  a  way — we  always  do. 

Sunday,  April  30. 

The  initiation  last  night  was  a  great  success. 
I  told  Herbert  before  the  thing  started  that  he 
needn't  be  afraid,  because  we  were  not  go- 
ing to  hurt  him.    I  thought  it  was  best.    You 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  159 

never  know  about  little  kids.  Herbert  is  only 
twelve. 

The  ritual  went  off  pretty  well,  even  if  we  did 
have  to  read  our  parts,  not  having  had  time  to 
learn  them.  Hal  was  Shakespeare;  John  was 
Thespis;  Larry  was  the  First  Actor,  and  I  was 
the  second  one. 

We  all  had  trouble  to  keep  from  laughing.  It 
seemed  so  funny  to  be  going  through  all  that  sol- 
emn stuff.  None  of  us  really  meant  to  laugh — 
not  even  Larry,  though  he  made  us  all  do  it  once. 
Larry  would  laugh  at  his  own  funeral.  The  laugh 
happened  when  Larry  started  to  read  the  part  of 
the  First  Actor.  He  began  it  singsong  style,  which 
is  just  his  natural  way  of  reading.  When  he  came 
to  the  part  about  the  password — 

"The  password,  which  in  whispers  must  be  spoke: 
*  Barnstormers'  Bamville,'  and  it  is  no  joke." 

— ^he  added  a  "he-haw"  of  his  own.  We  all 
laughed — even  Herbert.  We  had  been  wanting 
to  laugh  before,  because  the  whole  ritual  sounded 
sort  of  silly.  It  wasn't  nearly  as  solemn  as  Hal 
and  I  thought  it  would  be.    I  guess  we  all  should 


i6o  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

be  glad  Larry  tacked  on  that  "he-haw,"  because 
it  is  hard  on  you  to  hold  in  a  laugh  that  wants 
to  come  out,  and  that  gave  us  an  excuse. 

John,  although  he  laughed,  too,  said  it  was  very 
unfortunate  that  the  laugh  was  made  necessary, 
because  the  dignity  of  the  occasion — whatever 
that  is — ^was  quite  spoiled. 

John  read  the  part  of  Thespis  very  well.  He 
sat  behind  a  table  with  two  candles  on  it,  and  he 
was  all  draped  up  in  a  sheet  and  had  a  long  beard 
made  out  of  cotton-wool.  He  looked  quite  ter- 
rible, and  I  think  he  scared  Herbert  a  Httle  when 
the  blindfold  was  taken  off  and  Herbert  saw  John 
in  all  his  glory. 

The  second  degree  was  great  sport.  HaPs  goat 
lived  up  to  its  full  reputation  and  was  much  bet- 
ter than  a  live  one,  being  quite  as  funny  and  less 
trouble  to  handle.  We  put  the  candidate  on  the 
goat  and  started  it  to  rock,  with  the  result  that 
Herbert  thought  he  was  going  to  be  thrown  into 
the  air  or  tossed  against  the  side  of  the  bam. 
The  two  rockers,  out  of  which  the  goat  is  made, 
are  put  together  in  such  a  way  that  you  rock 
over  in  one  direction  so  far,  get  a  terrible  jolt. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  i6i 

and  start  back  in  the  other  direction.  When  you 
are  sitting  astraddle  of  the  thing  and  it  is  started 
in  motion,  you  get  a  very  funny  feeling.  We  had 
all  tried  it  before  Herbert  did,  so  we  knew  just 
how  it  felt.  Herbert  couldn't  help  laughing — in 
fact,  we  all  just  yelled.  I  don't  think  he  was  really 
scared,  because  he  is  a  plucky  little  kid  and  you 
can't  scare  him  very  easily. 

The  "baptismal  well"  was  the  other  part  of 
the  initiation.  I  invented  that,  and  I  think  it 
was  a  first-rate  idea.  We  put  a  tub  full  of  water 
at  the  bottom  of  the  old  hay  chute.  When  the 
time  came  to  use  the  "well"  we  let  a  bucket  down 
on  a  rope  and  brought  it  up  full  of  water,  all  of 
which  we  let  Herbert,  who  was  still  bUndfolded, 
hear  us  do.  We  talked  about  the  old  well  that 
had  been  under  the  bam  since  the  bam  was  built, 
and  Hal  told  about  having  fished  snakes  and  toads 
and  rats  out  of  it.  When  we  brought  up  the 
bucket  we  each  took  a  drink  out  of  it — or  rather 
pretended  to  take  a  drink — and  then  offered  some 
to  Herbert.  John  said  the  snake  flavor  was  very 
strong — ^he  thought  rattlers  must  Hve  in  the  well, 
since  the  water  tasted  like  rattlesnake  oil  smelled. 


i62  THE  B.\RXSTORMERS 


Lany  said  he  amid  get  the  taste  ol  dead  lats, 
and  he  thoi^g^t  there  must  be  more  cats  than 
nttios  in  Ae  ndL  I  said  I  dMN^^  there  were 
more  toads^  because  I  coald  taste  a  nice  flavor 
JDSt  fike  a  cellar  that  had  been  shut  up  far  a, 
long  time.  Hal  had  a  bottle  ol  some  teniMy 
stinlgr  stnff  begot  at  the  drag-store^  and  wfafle 
he  opened  this  under  Herbert's 


"SmdL  the  Im/ffy  smeai"  said  Jc^ul  ''That 
soidy  is  i^  water  down  in  that  weQ.  No  woo- 
der  it  has  a  flavarf 

Then  we  <tf creel  Hexfoert  a  g^ass  of  it — which 
leaSy  came  out  c^  a  pitfhfr  of  drinking  water 
instead  of  the  bucket.  Of  comse  he  wouldn't 
take  it— we  knew  he  wouldn't. 

"rn  ten  yoa  what,**  said  Hal,  "there's  only 
one  thing  to  do  with  hrm,  since  he  wcm't  dnnk  it. 
Well  pot  a  rope  mider  his  aims  and  kt  him 
down  into  the  well  itsetf." 

^fme!*'  said  Larry,  and  we  all  agreed. 

Tlien  Herbert  said  he  woold  drink  the  water 
M  we  only  wouldn't  pot  him  in  the  wefl.  But  we 
were  firm. 


THE  BARNSTORJVIERS  163 

"Down  he  goes!"  said  Hal.  "It's  too  good 
a  chance  to  find  out  what's  really  down  there. 
Maybe  he  can  bring  ns  up  a  live  rattler  or  so 
and  some  choice  rats  to  roast  for  the  feast," 

Herbert  kicked  and  fought,  though  I  think  he 
knew  it  was  all  a  joke,  while  we  tied  a  rope 
under  his  arms  and  got  ready  to  let  him  down 
the  chute.  I  went  below  so  that  I  could  tell  the 
others  when  to  pull  up  on  the  rope.  We  had 
taken  off  Herbert's  shoes  and  stockings,  and  we 
only  intended  to  let  his  feet  touch  the  water  and 
then  pull  him  back. 

Evetything  went  all  right  imtil  I  gave  the  sig- 
nal to  puU  back.  Herbert  really  was  scared  when 
his  toes  touched  that  cold  water  in  the  tub.  He 
kicked  and  squirmed  aroimd  so  that  the  rope  got 
away  from  the  boj-s  up  above,  and  down  he  came 
in  the  tub  of  water.  For  a  wonder  he  landed 
standing  up — ^which  was  a  good  thing,  since  he 
only  got  wet  to  his  knees.  Eveiybody  laughed, 
including  Herbert,  and  we  hauled  him  up  and 
wiped  his  feet  and  legs  on  an  old  sack,  and  helped 
him  put  on  his  shoes  and  stockings. 

It  was  so  late  by  that  time  that  we  had  to  give 


i64  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

up  the  rest  of  the  initiation  and  go  up  to  the 
house  to  have  our  spread. 

We  did  have  the  mince  pie,  after  all.  Larry 
got  Aunt  Pepy,  their  nigger  cook,  to  make  him 
one,  and  he  brought  it  over  done  up  in  a  news- 
paper. It  was  ever  so  good — and  I  didn't  dream 
about  my  great-grandmother's  ghost,  or  any  other 
ghost,  afterward. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

Wednesday,  May  3. 

I  am  pasting  in  last  Saturday's  Gimlet,  which 
has  in  it  the  announcement  of  our  play.  We 
are  not  going  to  have  any  trouble  getting  a 
crowd  this  time.  Looks  as  though  we  would  have 
more  of  a  crowd  than  we  could  take  care  of.  We 
are  going  to  have  a  matinee  Saturday  after- 
noon. No  more  two-cent  rates,  though.  The 
price  will  be  five  cents  straight.  A  lot  of  kids 
from  school  are  coming,  and  teacher,  and  some  of 
the  little  youngsters  in  the  neighborhood.  It  isn't 
easy  to  give  two  shows  in  one  day,  but  regular 
actors  often  do  it,  and  I  guess  we  can. 

Well,  here's  the  The  Gimlet: 
16s 


i66 


THE  BARNSTORMERS 


THE  GIMLET 


April  29. 


Vol.  II,  No.  10. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS 

IN 

BIANCA 

A  Tragedy  by  Louisa  Alcott 

BARNVILLE  THEATER 

Matinee  and  night, 

May  6 
Admission,  5  cents 


BIANCA 

The  Gimlet  wishes  to  call 
the  attention  of  its  readers  to 
the  performance  of  "Bianca" 
by  the  famous  Barnstormer's 
Dramatic  Club.  Theater-go- 
ers will  remember  the  great 
success  of  "The  Captive  of 
Castile"  a  month  ago.  "Bi- 
anca" is  a  shorter  play,  but 
very  thrilling.  The  same  ex- 
cellent cast  as  presented  the 
company's  first  efifort,  "The 
Captive  of  Castile,"  will  be 
seen  in  "  Bianca  " ;  and  in  ad- 
dition, Mr.  Herbert  Hilton 
will  make  his  first  appearance 


on  any  stage  in  the  part  of 
Juan,  Bianca^s  page. 

The  play  tells  the  story  of 
woman's  love  and  constancy 
and  man's  perfidity.  The 
villain  meets  a  tragic  end, 
which  he  well  deserves. 

The  cast  is  as  follows: 

Adelbert,  betrothed  to  Bianca, 
Mr.  John  Jameson. 
Huon,  his  rival, 

Mr.  Harold  Jameson. 

Juan,  Bianca's  page, 

Mr.  Herbert  Hilton. 
Bianca,  a  Spanish  lady, 

Mr.  Robert  Archer. 

Hilda,  a  witch, 

Mr.  John  Jameson. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS 


167 


THE   GIMLET 


April  29    Page  2 


Vol.  II,  No.  10 


BIANCA 
{Cont.from  page  i.) 

The  settings  for  this  produc- 
tion will  be  very  elaborate. 
The  Barnstormers  have  built 
entirely  new  scenery,  includ- 
ing a  handsome  interior,  a 
garden  scene,  and  a  witch's 
cavern,  where  wierd  Kghting 
effects  will  inspire  the  audi- 
ences with  breathless  awe. 

Seats  for  this  elaborate  pro- 
duction of  a  great  play  are 
now  on  sale. 


EAST-END  DEFEATS 
WEST-END 

The  East-End  base  ball 
team  defeated  the  West-End 
team  on  Thursday  afternoon. 
The  score  was  five  to  three. 
Donovan  knocked  a  home  run 
for  the  East-End  in  the  sixth. 


BUY   YOUR 

ATHLETIC  SUPPLIES 

AT    HANLON'S 

DRUG  STORE 

ADVERTISE  IN  THE 
GIMLET 


THE  GIMLET 

Vol.  II,  No.  10. 

Published  weekly  at  the  Gim- 
let Press,  246  East  2d  St. 

Subscription,  2  cts  per  copy, 
5  cts  per  month,  50  cts  per  yr. 

Harold  Jameson,  printer  and 
publisher. 

Editor  in  chief,  Harold  Jame- 
son. 

Subscription  manager,  Harold 
Jameson. 

Sporting  Editor,  Harold  Jame- 
son. 

Newsboy,  Harold  Jameson. 
o 

DUST  FROM  THE 
GIMLET 

All  the  world's  a  stage,  so 
why  not  a  barn  for  a  theater? 

Subscribers  come,  subscrib- 
ers go,  but  we  go  on  forever. 

Six  slim,  slick,  sleek  sap- 
lings arent  in  it  when  the 
Barnstormers'  barnstorming 
batallion  beautifully  barn- 
storm beautiful  "Bianca." 


LOCALS 

The  grass  on  the  court-house 
lawn  was  cut  for  the  first  time 
this  year  on  Wednesday. 

Mr.  Herbert  Hilton  has  been 
taken  into  the  Barnstormers' 
Dramatic  Club. 

SEE  BIANCA 


i68  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Hal  and  I  think  our  article  about  the  Barn- 
stormers is  quite  a  good  one.  We  have  been 
saving  clippings  about  real  theatrical  companies, 
and  we  read  those  all  over  before  we  began  to 
write.  We  borrowed  big  words  from  some  of 
the  clippings,  but  we  looked  all  of  them  up  first 
in  the  dictionary  so  we  wouldn't  use  any  of  them 
wrong. 

The  programmes  and  bills  are  also  printed.  I 
am  pasting  them  in,  too. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS 

PRESENT 
BIANCA 

A  Tragedy,  by  Louisa  Alcott 

Barnville  Theater 
May  Sixth 

Matinee  at  2  P.  M. 
Evening  at  7:30  P.  M. 

Admission  5  cents 

First  appearance  on 

Any  stage  of 
Mr.  Herbert  Hilton 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  169 

Here  is  the  programme: 


BIANCA 

A  Tragedy  by  Louisa  Alcoit. 

Presented  by 

THE  BARNSTORMERS 

at  the 

BARNVILLE    THEATER 

Saturday,  May  6 

at 

Two  and  Seven-thirty  P.  M. 

CAST 

Adelbert,  betrothed  to  Bianca,  Mr.  John  Jameson. 

Huon,  his  rival,                           Mr.  Harold  Jameson. 

Juan,  Bianca's  page,                   Mr.  Herbert  Hilton. 

Bianca,  a  Spanish  lady,              Mr.  Robert  Archer. 

Hilda,  a  witch,                            Mr.  John  Jameson. 

SYNOPSIS 

Scene  I.  A  wood,  night. 

Scene  II,  Hilda's  cave  in  the  forest. 

Scene  III.  Room  in  Bianca's  house. 

Scene  IV .  K  moonlit  balcony  on  Bianca's  castle. 

Scene  V.  Bianca's  garden. 

Scene  VI.  Huon's  chamber. 

I70  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

The  stage-settings  for  "Bianca"  are  coming 
along  all  right.  Herbert  is  helping  us.  He  doesn't 
know  much  about  it,  but  he  can  run  errands  for 
us  and  do  what  we  tell  him  to  do. 

That  witch's  cave  is  the  hardest  thing  in  the 
scenery  Hne  that  we  have  had  to  tackle  so  far. 
We  wanted  it  up  a  httle  way  off  the  stage  level 
so  that  it  would  look  like  a  real  entrance  to  a 
real  cave.  To  raise  it  we  took  a  big  flat  box, 
which  is  about  four  feet  square  and  two  feet  high, 
and  made  the  top  of  it  all  lumpy  by  tacking  on 
some  pieces  of  an  old  comforter.  A  smaller  box 
fixed  the  same  way  makes  a  step  up  to  this.  The 
trouble  now  is  to  know  how  to  make  the  upper 
part  of  the  cave.  We  have  the  floor  but  we 
have  no  cave  to  go  over  it.  The  floor  is  a  great 
success,  and  looks  very  cavey — ^like  rock,  I  mean — 
when  we  cover  up  its  lumpiness  with  an  old 
tarpaulin  that  has  turned  all  gray  and  spotted 
from  being  out  in  the  weather. 

Hal  thinks  we  can  make  the  cave  out  of  a 
frame  and  some  building-paper,  but  I  don't  be- 
lieve we  can.  However  we  make  it,  it  will  have  to 
be  made  soon,  since  the  show  is  only  two  days  off. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  171 

The  witch's  caldron  and  the  fire  to  go  under 
it  are  all  ready.  We  have  an  old  iron  soap  pot 
for  the  caldron  itself.  We  make  the  fire  by  pil- 
ing up  some  stove  wood  and  putting  a  little  red- 
globed  night-lamp  on  the  inside  of  the  pile.  Then 
we  stuff  up  some  of  the  chinks  with  red  and  orange 
tissue-paper,  and  the  thing  just  looks  great. 

The  only  other  light  for  the  scene  is  to  come 
from  the  two  lamps  which  are  placed  back  of  the 
first  wings  on  either  side  of  the  stage.  These  are 
to  give  a  blue  light,  which  we  make  by  standing 
a  shield  of  oiled  blue  tissue-paper  in  front  of  each 
lamp.  When  John,  as  old  Hilda,  stirs  the  boil- 
ing caldron  in  that  red-and-blue  lighted  scene  we 
will  have  the  audience  spellbound. 

We  are  planning  to  use  the  gray  back  drop 
with  plenty  of  green  branches  against  it  to  give 
a  forest  effect  to  the  scene.  We  are  going  to 
scatter  leaves  around  on  the  floor,  too,  and  give 
the  whole  setting  what  Hal  calls  a  real  David 
Belasco  look.  When  he  sprung  that  I  said  I 
didn't  see  how  a  stage-setting  could  look  like  a 
man,  but  Hal  said  that  whether  it  could  or  not, 
the  highest  compliment  you  could  pay  to  a  stage- 


172  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

setting  was  to  say  it  looked  Belascoey.  I  sup- 
pose Hal  knows. 

If  we  only  had  that  pesky  cave  fixed  I  wouldn't 
care  beans  about  anything  else.  If  I  had  time 
I  would  take  a  trip  out  to  Truitt's  Cave,  which  is 
five  miles  southwest  of  town,  and  get  some  real 
cave-Hke  ideas  on  the  question.  As  it  is,  I  have 
that  cave  on  my  mind  all  the  time — ^not  Truitt's, 
but  the  one  in  the  play — and  a  cave  is  a  good 
deal  to  be  carrying  about  in  your  head! 

The  garden  scene  hasn't  been  half  so  much 
trouble  as  that  cave.  Hal  and  I  made  a  balus- 
trade for  it  which  is  also  to  serve  on  the  moonlit 
balcony  in  the  fourth  scene.  We  cut  the  spin- 
dles for  the  balustrade  out  of  pasteboard — shoe 
boxes,  old  suit  boxes,  just  anything,  in  fact,  that 
we  could  get.  Then  we  made  an  oblong  frame 
of  edging  strips  that  is  two  feet  wide  and  seven 
feet  long.  We  covered  the  long  pieces  with  strips 
of  pasteboard  and  pasted  the  spindles  to  these. 
At  one  end  we  made  a  square  sort  of  pedestal 
to  hold  a  flower-pot.  This  is  just  a  box  covered 
with  pasteboard.  We  colored  the  balustrade  and 
the  pedestal  with  crayons,  using  purple  and  black 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  173 

and  shading  with  these  two  colors  to  give  a  stone- 
color. 

The  balustrade  is  to  be  placed  on  the  left  side 
of  the  stage,  coming  out  from  the  middle  wing. 
We  will  use  the  gray  drop  and  lots  of  green 
branches  behind  it.  Some  flowers  in  pots  and 
a  rustic  bench  will  complete  the  scene. 

The  moonht  balcony  was  almost  as  much 
trouble  to  us  as  the  cave  has  been,  but  we  have 
it  all  worked  out  now.  Moonlight  was  what 
stumped  us  all.  John  finally  suggested  the  magic 
lantern  with  a  slide  of  plain  blue  glass.  The 
blue  Hght  serves  for  moonlight  very  well. 

For  the  front  of  this  scene  we  use  the  new  room 
set  which  has  a  wide  door  at  the  back.  We  are 
going  to  set  it  forward  a  little  so  there  will  be 
plenty  of  space  back  of  it  for  the  balcony.  Then 
we  will  run  the  balustrade  across,  put  some  cush- 
ions and  rugs  down,  ''mask"  in  back  of  this  with 
green  branches,  turn  on  the  blue  moonlight,  and 
be  ready  for  Bianca  and  Adelhert  to  make  love. 
In  the  room  itself  we  are  going  to  have  nothing 
but  that  little  red  night-lamp.  The  footlights 
will  be  off,  and  only  the  blue  moonlight,  the  red 


174  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

night-lamp,  and  the  blue-shaded  lamps  in  the  side 
wings  will  be  used  to  light  the  scene.  It  seems 
as  though  most  of  "Bianca"  happens  in  the  dark; 
but  so  much  the  better,  for  it  makes  the  play 
much  more  romantic  and  weird. 

We  have  had  rehearsals  every  night  this  week. 
We  know  the  entire  play  now,  but  we  still  need 
all  the  practice  we  can  get.  Herbert  is  doing 
well  as  the  page,  but  he  says  he  will  be  scared  to 
death  when  the  play  comes  off. 

John  is  better  as  Hilda,  the  witch,  than  he  has 
been  in  any  other  part  he  has  yet  tried.  His 
make-up  is  fine.  He  is  padded  out  so  that  he 
looks  humpbacked,  and  he  stoops  way  over 
and  leans  on  a  cane.  He  wears  an  old  black  skirt 
and  a  moth-eaten  shawl  which  comes  up  over  his 
head  and  covers  the  part  where  his  false  face 
leaves  off.  The  false  face  is  a  good  one  all  right! 
It  is  a  real  witch's  face  with  a  hooked  nose  and 
chin  that  nearly  meet.  In  the  dim  light,  I  don't 
beHeve  any  one  will  know  it's  just  a  false  face. 
These  "artistic"  Hghting  effects  that  Hal  is  so 
strong  for  cover  a  multitude  of  defects  that  would 
never  get  by  in  full  Hght. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  175 

I  wear  the  same  clothes  I  did  in  "The  Captive 
of  Castile."  We  had  to  make  some  clothes  for 
Herbert.  He  has  a  timic  and  doublet  of  bright 
blue  cambric  and  wears  stockings  for  tights. 
Hal  and  John  wear  the  same  things  as  before. 

Thursday,  May  4. 

I  could  shout  with  joy!  We  have  the  cave! 
Hal  and  I  rigged  one  up  this  afternoon.  It's 
just  as  cavey  as  can  be  and  looks  great.  I  came 
to  HaFs  plan  of  a  frame  and  building-paper  at 
last,  and  I  am  glad  I  did;  but  that  isn't  all  we 
used.  We  have  some  old  chenille  curtains  that 
have  faded  out  from  dark  blue  to  no  color  in  par- 
ticular, and  these  are  hung  over  the  outside  of 
the  frame  to  form  the  outer  part  of  the  cave.  They 
blend  in  nicely  with  the  gray  back  drop.  The 
frame  is  oblong — ^five  feet  wide  and  nine  high. 
Over  the  top  of  it  is  a  four-foot  width  of  building- 
paper  with  the  edges  all  slashed  up  and  jagged, 
just  like  rocks.  The  frame  stands  up  in  one  cor- 
ner of  the  stage — ^it  happens  to  be  the  left  rear 
one — ^and  there  is  a  top  frame,  four  by  five  feet, 
that  lays  across  from  the  upright  frame  to  the 


176  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

rear  beam  of  the  bam.  A  lot  of  jagged  pieces  of 
paper  hang  down  on  the  inside  to  look  like  the 
things  that  hang  down  from  the  roofs  of  caves — 
stalactites,  I  think  you  call  them.  We  have  three 
of  the  old  curtains,  which  we  drape  at  the  sides 
and  over  the  top.  The  padded  box,  covered  with 
the  old  tarpaulin,  goes  inside  all  this  to  serve  as 
the  floor.  The  caldron,  with  the  "fire"  that  goes 
imder  it,  is  placed  on  this  floor  just  inside  the 
mouth  of  the  cave. 

When  Hal  and  I  finished  making  the  thing  this 
afternoon  we  just  danced  around  and  yelled,  we 
were  so  pleased  with  it.  We  tried  the  Hghts  at 
rehearsal  to-night,  and  John  and  Larry  and  Her- 
bert were  as  pleased  as  we  had  been. 

To-morrow  night  is  the  dress  rehearsal. 

Friday,  May  5. 

I  wish  to-morrow  was  over!  Yes,  I  do!  That 
dress  rehearsal  to-night  went  as  rotten  as  anything 
could  go.  We  forgot  and  had  to  be  prompted, 
and  we  didn't  get  in  on  our  "cues,"  and  we  were 
always  in  the  wrong  instead  of  the  right  place 
on  the  stage.  We  even  skipped  whole  speeches 
and  had  to  go  back  to  them. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  177 

Larry  said  he  was  ashamed  of  us.  That  made 
John  sore,  and  he  told  him  he  didn't  have  any 
cause  to  kick  when  he  hadn't  had  anything  to  do 
with  getting  the  show  ready.  And  then  Larry 
said  he  guessed  he  had  been  doing  something 
better — defending  the  honor  of  the  East-End 
against  the  West-End. 

They  nearly  had  a  fight,  only  we  made  them 
shake  hands  before  they  did.  We  can't  have  any 
scraps  the  night  before  a  show. 

But  it  is  the  truth  that  the  dress  rehearsal  was 
terrible.  Those  pesky  songs  were  the  worst  part 
of  it  all.  We  didn't  have  any  one  to  sing  Adel- 
bert^s  song  at  all,  though  I  think  Larry's  cousin 
will  do  it  for  us  to-morrow  night. 

No  one  liked  the  time  I  had  fixed  up  for  my 
"Faded  Flowers"  song,  and  then  I  got  all  mixed 
up  on  it  besides. 

Poor  Herbert  was  scared  stiff,  and  says  he  never 
will  be  able  to  speak  when  the  show  comes  off 
to-morrow. 

I  'most  wish  we  didn't  have  any  Barnstormers, 
or  any  Bamville,  or  any  show! — no  I  don't,  either! 
It'll  all  come  out  all  right!  Anyway,  I'm  going  to 
bed  and  have  a  good  night's  sleep. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Sunday,  May  7. 

It's  all  over!  We  have  given  another  play! 
I  think  it  was  a  success.  Anyway,  the  people 
liked  the  scenery,  and  that  made  them  forget  the 
acting. 

But  we  really  did  much  better  than  we  had 
hoped.  You  always  do  when  the  time  comes. 
The  matinee  didn't  go  any  too  well,  but  the  kids 
Uked  it  and  teacher  thought  it  was  great.  I  am 
sorry  she  didn't  see  the  night  show,  because  we 
all  did  very  much  better  at  that. 

The  afternoon  crowd  was  quite  large.    We  sold 

thirty-one  tickets.    About  half  of  the  crowd  was 

made  up  of  kids  from  school — Hal's  and  my  room, 

and  Herbert's.    They  clapped  and  clapped  after 

every  scene,  and  we  all  had  to  take  curtain  calls, 

and  Hal  made  a  speech  at  the  end  of  the  fourth 

scene.    He  said  that  the  Barnstormers  greatly 

appreciated  the  enthusiasm  of  the  splendid  and 

brilHant  audience  in  behalf  of  their  histrionic  ef- 

178 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  179 

forts.  (He  used  perfectly  immense  words !)  That 
it  was  a  source  of  great  satisfaction  to  be  thus 
enthusiastically  received  after  the  long  and  ardu- 
ous weeks  spent  in  preparation.  He  hoped  to  see 
all  of  the  same  faces  back  at  our  next  production, 
which  would  take  place  early  in  the  summer  va- 
cation. They  all  laughed  and  cheered,  and  then 
we  went  on  with  the  show. 

Since  nearly  all  of  "Bianca"  takes  place  in  the 
dark,  with  blue  and  red  Hght  effects,  we  had  to 
have  the  Barnville  dark  for  the  afternoon  show. 
That  was  fairly  easy  to  do,  though.  We  darkened 
it  like  we  did  for  the  matinee  of  "The  Captive 
of  Castile,'^  and  the  light  effects  showed  up 
nearly  as  well  as  they  did  at  the  night  show. 

It's  queer  how  all  of  us  brace  up  and  do  our 
best  when  a  lot  of  people  are  out  in  front  watch- 
ing the  show.  There  is  something  about  it  you 
can't  quite  explain.  You  feel  so  different  from 
what  you  do  when  you  are  giving  the  show  to  a 
row  of  empty  seats.  You're  all  wound  up,  and 
you  feel  sort  of  excited  and  yet  calm,  too.  Your 
head  is  clear,  and  the  lines  you  are  to  say  and  the 
things  you  are  to  do  stand  out  there  more  clearly 


i8o  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

than  they  ever  have  before.  You  feel  a  sort  of 
throb-throb  going  on  partly  in  you  and  partly  in 
the  people  who  are  watching  you.  I  can't  quite 
say  all  I  mean,  because  it's  one  of  those  things 
that  won't  go  into  words.  Just  the  same,  the 
throb  feeHng  is  there,  and  you  never  will  quite 
forget  how  it  made  you  feel. 

We  were  a  Uttle  bit  afraid  that  we  might  have 
trouble  at  the  afternoon  show,  with  all  those  kids 
we  knew  sitting  out  in  the  audience  watching  us. 
John  said  they  would  be  sure  to  laugh  at  the  love- 
scenes.  I  was  sure  that  when  they  saw  me  dressed 
up  as  a  girl  they  would  all  laugh,  but  they  didn't. 
The  Barnville,  all  as  neat  as  a  pin,  and  the  stage, 
with  its  curtain  and  scenery,  took  the  laugh  out 
of  them.  They  saw  we  weren't  giving  just  a  pre- 
tend, make-up-as-you-go-along,  three-pin-admis- 
sion,  kid  show,  but  a  real-for-sure  play,  and  that 
made  them  take  us  seriously. 

We  only  had  one  thing  happen  to  spoil  the  show, 
and  that  really  wasn't  so  bad.  Lettie  Carter,  who 
is  just  five  years  old,  came  with  her  brother  John, 
who  is  seven,  and  their  darky  nurse,  Cassie.  Let- 
tie  didn't  mind  at  all  about  Adelbert  dying  of 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  i8i 

poison,  though  she  did  get  sort  of  excited  when 
he  writhed  around  on  the  floor;  but  when  Hiion 
stabbed  Bianca — myself — it  was  too  much  for 
Lettie.  She  set  up  a  terrible  howl.  Everybody 
laughed,  and  we  pulled  down  the  curtain,  and  I 
came  out  and  bowed.  That  stopped  Lettie's  grief, 
because  she  saw  that  I  wasn't  hurt,  after  all. 

The  crowd  in  the  afternoon  behaved  better 
than  the  crowd  at  night.  "Bianca"  was  so  tragic 
that  the  grown-up  people  found  it  funny.  Maybe 
the  name  on  the  book — "Comic  Tragedies" — 
isn't  wrong,  after  all.  Our  audience  laughed  and 
laughed  at  the  end  of  each  scene,  but  they  seemed 
to  like  the  play,  so  we  didn't  care. 

Our  stage-settings  were  certainly  a  big  success. 
In  the  first  scene,  which  is  a  wood,  we  used  the 
gray  back  drop  and  a  great  many  green  branches, 
maple  and  beech  mostly,  with  a  few  evergreens 
mixed  in.  We  made  a  Httle  thicket  at  the  back 
where  Huon  was  to  hide.  Then  we  put  the  forked 
branch,  that  we  used  in  the  first  show,  down  in 
front  for  Bianca  and  Adelbert  to  sit  on.  The 
footlights  were  not  Hghted,  but  we  had  "moon- 
light" made  by  the  magic  lantern  and  the  light 


i82  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

that  came  from  the  blue-shaded  lights  at  the  side 
of  the  stage.  The  scene  looked  fine,  and  the  au- 
dience clapped  for  it  when  the  curtain  went  up. 

But  our  second,  the  witch's  cavern,  was  the 
best.  We  didn't  have  to  do  much  to  the  stage 
but  move  the  branches  around  and  put  up  the 
cave.  We  used  the  magic  lantern  again,  but  with 
a  red  glass  sHde  this  time,  throwing  the  light  into 
the  cave  entrance  so  it  would  look  like  the  glow 
from  the  fire.  When  the  curtain  went  up  John, 
as  old  Hilda,  was  bending  over  the  caldron  stir- 
ring it  with  a  long  iron  spoon.  Hal  and  I,  off 
stage,  made  a  noise  like  wind  whistling  through 
the  trees.  Old  Hilda  stirred  the  caldron  and 
sang  a  weird  chant.  This  lasted  nearly  a  minute, 
and  then  the  audience  applauded.  After  they 
were  quiet  Hilda  reached  down  under  the  cal- 
dron and  brought  up  a  handful  of  things  which 
she  dropped  into  the  mixture  one  by  one,  sa3dng 
that  speech  from  the  witches'  scene  in  "Macbeth": 

"Round  about  the  caldron  go; 
In  the  poison'd  entrails  throw. 
Toad,  that  under  cold  stone 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  183 

Days  and  nights  has  thirty-one 
Swelt'red  venom  sleeping  got, 
Boil  thou  first  i'  the  charmed  pot! 
Double,  double,  toil  and  trouble; 
Fire  bum  and  caldron  bubble. 
Fillet  of  a  fenny  snake, 
In  the  caldron  boil  and  bake; 
Eye  of  newt  and  toe  of  frog, 
Wool  of  bat  and  tongue  of  dog, 
Adder's  fork  and  bHnd-worm's  sting, 
Lizard's  leg  and  howlet's  wing. 
For  a  charm  of  powerful  trouble, 
Like  a  hell-broth  boil  and  bubble. 
Double,  double,  toil  and  trouble; 
Fire  biurn  and  caldron  bubble. 
Scale  of  dragon,  tooth  of  wolf, 
Witches'  mummy,  maw  and  gulf 
Of  the  ravin'd  salt-sea  shark; 
Root  of  hemlock,  digged  i'  the  dark, 
Liver  of  blaspheming  Jew, 
Gall  of  goat  and  slips  of  yew 
Sliver'd  in  the  moon's  ecHpse, 
Nose  of  Turk  and  Tartar's  lips; 
Finger  of  birth-strangled  babe, 


i84  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Ditch-deliver'd  by  a  drab, 
Make  the  gruel  thick  and  slab. 
Add  thereto  a  tiger's  chaudron, 
For  the  ingredients  of  our  caldron. 
Double,  double,  toil  and  trouble, 
Fire  bum  and  caldron  bubble. 
Cool  it  with  a  baboon's  blood. 
Then  the  charm  is  firm  and  good." 

John's  voice  was  high  and  cracked,  and  he  made 
the  lines  sound  their  awfullest.  Where  he  said, 
"Double,  double,  toil  and  trouble,  fire  bum  and 
caldron  bubble,"  he  stirred  with  the  big  spoon, 
and  we  flickered  the  fight  from  the  magic  lantern. 
John  had  something  to  throw  in  for  each  thing 
he  mentioned,  and  he  did  it  in  a  fitting  manner 
for  each  one. 

He  was  the  one  who  suggested  that  we  put 
these  fines  into  the  scene.  He  is  reading  "Mac- 
beth" at  school  now.  I  am  glad  he  did  it,  for 
they  fit  into  "Bianca"  just  as  though  they  be- 
longed to  the  play. 

When  Huon  leaves  Hilda  after  getting  the  sup- 
posed love   draught,  she  teUs  about  it  being  a 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  185 

deadly  poison  and  says  that  when  he  goes  to 
claim  his  love,  he  will  find  a  dead  bride  awaiting 
him.  The  scene  is  supposed  to  end  there,  but 
John  fixed  up  some  more  Hnes. 

The  last  of  Hilda's  speech  goes:  "Ha!  ha!  ha! 
old  Hilda's  spells  work  silently  and  well!" 

John  added: 

"Ha!  ha!  ha! 

And  now  that  I  have  done  my  worst, 
I'll  call  my  devil  demons  curst, 
And  till  the  breaking  of  the  day, 
We'll  gambol  in  our  heUish  play. 
Up  to  the  moon  and  back  we'll  ride 
We'll  cross  the  mighty  ocean  wide. 
We'll  do  all  mischief  we  can  do — 
Ha!  ha!  ha!    Ha!  ha!  ho-o-o-o-o-o-o! 
Come  Bittlescritch  and  Bittlescratch! 
Come  Wattloo  and  Hacklehatch! 
Come  all  ye  brood  of  Satan's  halls — 
Ha!  ha!    Old  HHda  caUs!" 

Then  off  stage,  Larry,  Hal,  Herbert,  and  I  made 
the  noises  of  the  demons.     At  first  the  sound  was 


i86  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

very  faint — ^just  a  rumbling.  Then  it  got  louder 
and  louder — shrill  calls,  screeches,  hoots,  and 
howls — and  at  last  the  curtain  fell. 

Never  did  we  make  such  a  hit.  The  audience 
applauded  and  applauded,  and  we  took  four  cur- 
tain calls — the  entire  cast  coming  out  on  the 
last  one.  It  was  great — I  shall  remember  it  al- 
ways. 

The  third  scene  is  where  Huon  puts  the  poison, 
which  he  thinks  is  a  love  philter,  into  Bianca^s 
glass  of  wine.  That  is  the  scene  where  Herbert 
comes  in  as  the  page.  He  wasn't  really  scared  as 
he  thought  he  would  be.  He  did  well,  too.  It 
wasn't  easy  to  stoop  down,  holding  a  wine-glass 
on  a  tray,  and  fasten  Euan's  shoe.  Herbert  did 
it  all  very  well,  and  he  and  Hal  took  a  curtain 
call  at  the  end  of  the  scene. 

The  fourth  scene  was  the  moonlit  balcony.  It 
certainly  did  look  beautiful.  We  acted  our  parts 
fairly  well,  too,  though  those  pesky  love-making 
scenes  always  do  get  my  goat.  Larry's  cousin 
sang  the  song  about: 

"The  moon  is  up,  wake,  lady,  wake!" 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  187 

He  stood  down  in  the  carriage  house  so  that  his 
voice  would  sound  far  away.  Some  fellow  he 
knows  in  high  school — I  forget  his  name — ^played 
his  accompaniment  on  the  mandoHn.  When  John, 
as  Adelbert,  came  chmbing  over  the  balcony,  he 
had  my  mandolin  hanging  from  a  ribbon  around 
his  neck,  just  as  though  he  had  been  playing. 
He  didn^t  die  with  it  on,  for  it  would  have  been 
in  the  way,  and  might  have  gotten  squashed,  but 
took  it  off  and  laid  it  aside. 

In  the  fifth  scene  I  had  to  sing  my  song.  I 
don't  know  how  I  ever  did  it!  I  played  the  air 
on  my  mandolin  and  talked  the  song — at  least  I 
think  I  talked  it.  I  can't  quite  say  what  I  did 
do.  It  was  the  only  time  during  the  whole  play 
that  I  was  the  least  bit  scared. 

I  died  as  gracefully  as  I  could.  Hal  and  I  had 
practised  that  part  together  times  without  num- 
ber, but  I  think  we  did  it  differently  from  what 
we  ever  had  done  it  before.  Where  Hal  says: 
"Wouldst  thou  betray  me?  Never!  Yield  thou 
to  my  love,  or  I  will  sheathe  my  dagger  in  thy 
heart,  and  silence  thee  forever!" — he  forced  me 
to  my  knees  before  him  and  stood  over  me  with 
the  dagger  in  his  hand. 


i88  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Then  I  straightened  up  a  little  and  faced  him 
proudly. 

"I  will  not  yield!  The  world  shall  know  thy 
guilt,  and  then  sweet  death  shall  be  a  blessing.'' 

Then  he  seized  me  by  the  wrist,  forced  me 
back,  and  sheathed  the  dagger  in  my  heart. 
(What  he  really  did  was  to  run  it  imder  my  arm.) 
To  make  my  death  seem  more  real,  I  tore  open 
my  dress  at  the  neck  to  show  a  smear  of  red 
paint  that  had  been  carefully  put  there  to  look 
like  blood. 

As  Huon  did  the  stabbing  he  cried: 

"Then  die,  and  free  me  from  the  love  and  fear 
that  hang  Uke  clouds  above  me!" 

I  sank  back  on  the  floor,  gasped,  raised  myself 
on  one  arm,  and  said: 

"Thy  sin  will  yet — ^be — ^known!  {Gasp,  gasp) 
And — may — God — pardon — thee!"  Then  I  looked 
about  the  garden  scene,  gasping  meanwhile,  and 
took  my  last  farewell  of  earth.  "Oh  earth  fare- 
well! {Gasp,  gasp.)  My — Adelbert— I  come — I 
come!"  Then  I  gave  a  convulsive  shudder  and 
stiffened  out. 

I  don't  suppose  that  is  the  way  people  really 
die,  though  I  can't  say,  never  having  seen  any 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  189 

one  do  it;  but  they  always  die  that  way  in  novels, 
unless  they  just  "go  to  sleep,  and  pass  into  that 
bourne  from  which  no  traveller  returns."  Having 
been  murdered,  I  didn't  think  I  would  just  go 
to  sleep,  because  sleeping  deaths  always  happen 
in  bed — ^hke  little  Eva's — ^whereas  those  who  meet 
their  end  by  violent  means  always  die  with  a  con- 
vulsive shudder,  having  first  said  a  thing  or  two 
to  their  murderer. 

It  was  great  fun  plajdng  the  ghost  in  the  last 
scene.  I  put  flour  all  over  my  face,  just  as  thick 
as  I  could  make  it  stick.  Then  I  draped  myself 
up  in  a  sheet.     I  was  certainly  white  enough. 

John,  who  manages  the  magic  lantern  better 
than  any  of  us,  followed  me  with  a  spot  of  white 
light,  keeping  it.  always  on  my  head. 

When  I  entered,  Hal,  as  Huon,  was  lying  on  a 
pile  of  straw.  We  let  him  moan  and  groan  in  his 
sleep  for  a  moment  while  the  ghost  stood  over 
him.  At  last  he  started  up,  saw  me,  let  out  a 
wild  cry  of  fear,  crouched,  came  to  a  standing 
position,  and  advanced  toward  me. 

"Ha!  Spirit  of  the  dead,  what  wouldst  thou 
now?"     (I  came  closer  to  him.    He  moved  back.) 


ipo  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

"For  long,  long  nights  why  hast  thou  haunted 
me?  "  (Again  I  came  closer,  extending  my  hand.) 
"Cannot  my  agony,  remorse,  and  tears  lead  thee 
to  forget?  "  (I  came  still  closer,  and  put  my  hand 
on  his  head.  He  shrieked  wildly.)  "Ah,  touch 
me  not!  Away!  Away!'^  (He  moved  off .  I  fol- 
lowed.) "  See,  how  the  vision  follows!  It  holds 
me  fast!  *'  (He  threw  himself  at  my  feet.)  "  Bi- 
anca,  save  me!  Save  me!"  And  he  fell  dead  be- 
fore me,  while  I  stood  above  him,  pointing  upward. 
We  let  the  tableau  last  a  full  minute,  and  then 
John  put  his  hand  over  the  lens  of  the  magic  lan- 
tern, which  shut  off  the  only  light,  and  Larry  let 
the  curtain  fall. 

We  had  forty-two  people  at  the  night  show. 
That  meant  two  dollars  and  ten  cents.  Thirty- 
one  at  the  afternoon  show  brought  in  a  dollar 
fifty-five,  so  that  altogether  "Bianca"  made  us 
three  dollars  and  sixty-five  cents.  The  Barn- 
stormers will  soon  have  to  start  a  bank  account! 


CHAPTER  XV 

Tuesday,  May  9. 

Luck  is  with  the  Barnstormers — real  luck  with 
money  in  its  pocket!  Mrs.  Cawdor  MacAnnaly, 
who  is  the  richest  woman  in  town,  has  asked  us 
to  give  a  play  at  her  house-party  next  Friday 
night  to  "amuse"  the  guests.  (I  don't  Uke  that 
word  "amuse"!) 

It  seems  that  she  heard  about  us  through  some 
one  who  was  at  the  play  Saturday,  and  the  idea 
struck  her  that  we  woidd  be  a  "brand  new  sensa- 
tion" for  the  people  she's  going  to  have  down 
from  the  city.  So  Monday  she  called  up  Mrs. 
Jameson  by  'phone,  and  told  her  she  would  like 
to  see  some  of  us,  and  after  school  Hal  and  I 
went  over  to  her  house. 

I  had  never  been  there  before;  neither  had  Hal. 

We  both  felt  a  Kttle  bit  scared.    You  see  Mrs. 

MacAnnaly  is  hardly  ever  here,  and  when  she 

is  she  doesn't  "mix"  a  great  deal  with  the  people 

who  live  here  all  the  time.    So  we  felt  just  a  little 

191 


192  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

like  turning  and  running  after  we  had  rung  the 
bell  to  the  front  door  and  stood  waiting  for  some 
one  to  come. 

Finally  the  door  was  opened  by  an  oldish  man 
who  wore  a  blue  coat  with  brass  buttons.  I 
guess  Mrs.  MacAnnaly  hadn't  told  him  we  were 
coming,  for  he  didn't  act  as  if  he  was  glad  to  see 
us,  or  intended  to  let  us  in.  He  just  stood  wait- 
ing in  the  doorway  and  acted  as  though  he  didn't 
see  us  at  all. 

Finally  I  said:  "I  am  Robert  Archer  and  this 
is  Harold  Jameson.  Mrs.  MacAnnaly  wished  to 
see  us." 

He  acted  as  if  he  didn't  believe  it,  but  he  said 
he'd  "see,"  and  he  went  so  far  as  to  ask  us  into 
the  hall. 

The  hall  was  big  and  dark,  with  things  that 
caught  the  Hght  standing  out  brightly  here  and 
there.  Some  spears  and  a  big  brass  shield  were 
over  the  fireplace.  Hal  whispered  to  me  that 
they  would  be  great  to  use  in  a  play. 

We  waited  about  five  minutes,  and  then  there 
was  a  swishy,  rusthng  sound,  and  Mrs.  MacAn- 
naly came  down  the  stairs.    We  both  stood  up, 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  193 

which  I  think  was  good  manners,  though  I  felt 
too  scared  to  remember  what  I  should  do.  Mrs. 
MacAnnaly  came  toward  us,  and  she  smiled  so 
pleasantly  that  we  quite  forgot  to  be  afraid  of  her. 

"This  is  Robert  Archer  and  Harold  Jameson?" 
she  asked.     "Now,  tell  me,  which  is  which?" 

"I'm  Robert,"  I  said,  "and  this  is  Harold." 

She  shook  hands  with  us  as  solemnly  as  though 
we  were  grown  up  and  as  rich  as  she  is. 

"Now  suppose,"  she  said,  "we  all  go  out  in 
the  Hbrary,  and  I  have  Jenkins  bring  us  some  tea 
and  cakes  and  things,  and  you  can  tell  me  all 
about  the  Barnstormers." 

We  said  we  thought  that  would  be  very  nice, 
so  Mrs.  MacAnnaly  led  the  way  to  the  library, 
which  was  a  big  room  hned  with  books.  We  sat 
in  a  bay  window  in  big,  soft,  comfy  leather  chairs 
that  made  you  feel  just  as  you  felt  when  you 
dreamed  you  had  j&nally  got  your  wish  and  were 
riding  one  of  those  big  white  clouds  that  float 
across  the  sky  on  hot  summer  days. 

Mrs.  MacAnnaly  rang  a  bell,  and  Jenkins  came, 
looking  Kke  he'd  lost  his  last  friend — because 
of  us,  I  guess — and  Mrs.  MacAnnaly  told  him 


194  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

what  to  bring,  and  he  looked  still  more  abused 
and  disgusted.  It  must  be  awfully  uncomfortable 
to  have  Jenkins  around.  I  should  think  Mrs. 
MacAnnaly  would  fire  him  and  get  another  hired 
girl. 

While  Jenkins  was  getting  the  tea  and  cakes 
and  things,  Mrs.  MacAnnaly  asked  us  how  old 
we  were,  and  what  grade  we  were  in  at  school, 
and  how  we  liked  our  teacher,  and  all  those  ques- 
tions kids  always  get  asked. 

Then  Jenkins  brought  the  tea  and  a  second 
tray  with  little  sandwiches  and  cakes  and  mar- 
malade and  candy.  He  put  all  these  things  on 
a  funny  little  table  that  had  a  top  that  tilted  up 
when  you  weren't  using  it.  Mrs.  MacAnnaly  asked 
us  how  we  would  have  our  tea — ^with  cream  ? — 
and  we  both  said  yes;  and  with  sugar — two 
lumps? — and  we  both  said  yes  to  that,  too.  You 
see,  I  don't  get  tea  at  home,  and  I  don't  think 
Hal  does  either.  It  isn't  considered  good  for  chil- 
dren. But  we  liked  it,  and  had  two  cups,  not  to 
mention  three  sandwiches,  six  cakes,  and  five 
pieces  of  candy.  Mrs.  MacAnnaly  seemed  to 
enjoy  feeding  us  very  much. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  195 

We  told  her  about  the  Barnstormers,  and  "The 
Captive  of  Castile,"  and  "Bianca."  She  said 
she  was  very  sorry  she  didn't  get  to  see  "Bianca*' 
Saturday  night,  and  she  thought  we  were  naughty 
boys  not  to  come  around  and  tell  her  about  it. 

Then  she  told  us  about  the  party  she  is  to 
have  this  coming  Friday  night,  and  asked  us  if 
we  thought  we  could  give  "Bianca"  to  help  her 
'  *  amuse ' '  her  guests. 

We  weren't  real  sure  about  giving  a  play  away 
from  the  Barnville,  but  Mrs.  MacAnnaly  said  she 
would  fix  everything  up  all  right.  Off  the  Hbrary 
is  a  music-room  with  folding  doors  that  when 
open  give  a  space  about  the  width  of  our  stage. 
That  is  where  we  are  to  perform.  The  folding 
doors  will  be  the  curtain,  and  the  scenery  is  to 
be  brought  from  the  Barnville  and  Mrs.  Mac- 
Annaly is  to  have  it  put  up.  We  can't  bring  the 
new  green  wall-paper  room  scene,  for  it  wouldn't 
stand  moving,  so  some  carpenters  are  to  make  a 
new  room-scene  frame  for  us,  and  it  is  to  be  cov- 
ered with  old  chintz  curtains  which  Mrs.  Mac- 
Annaly has  put  away  in  the  attic. 

The  cave  will  be  no  trouble  to  move,  so  that  is 


196  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

to  be  brought  over.  There  are  to  be  real  electric 
footlights  and  side-lights,  just  Kke  they  have  in  a 
real  theatre.  Then  the  orchestra  that  is  to  play 
for  the  dance,  which  comes  after  our  play,  is  to 
furnish  the  music  between  each  scene. 

Hal  and  I  both  got  home  late  for  supper,  but 
we  didn^t  mind,  each  being  pretty  full  of  the  cakes 
and  tea  and  sandwiches,  and  so  not  very  himgry. 
John  and  Larry  and  Herbert  joined  us  at  the 
Bamville  after  supper,  and  we  had  a  meeting  to 
talk  about  giving  the  play  at  Mrs.  MacAnnaly's. 
We  all  thought  it  was  too  good  a  chance  to  let 
go,  so  it  was  voted  that  we  do  it. 

I  don't  know  yet  what  we  are  to  get  for  giving 
the  play,  but  Mrs.  MacAnnaly  will  do  the  square 
thing  by  us,  I  am  sure. 

Thursday,  May  11. 

The  play  is  going  j5ne.  We  had  a  rehearsal  at 
Mrs.  MacAnnaly's  last  night,  and  she  was  pleased 
as  could  be  with  it.  She  said  she  thought  we 
were  "  awfully  clever  " — whatever  that  is.  Jenkins 
didn't  seem  so  well  pleased.  He's  a  grouch  of 
the  grouchiest  sort. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  197 

This  afternoon  Hal  and  I  went  up  to  Mrs.  Mac- 
Annaly's  again,  this  time  to  see  about  the  stage 
in  the  music-room.  The  platform  was  all  made. 
It  is  about  a  foot  high  and  has  a  nice  sunken 
place  for  the  footlights.  "Red"  Hays,  the  elec- 
trician, put  those  in  yesterday  morning.  They 
are  all  blue  ones,  because  there  is  only  one  scene 
where  we  use  full  light  on  the  stage — that's  the 
third — and  then  we  can  have  it  coming  from  the 
side  or  else  put  some  white  bulbs  into  the  row 
of  foots. 

The  frame  for  the  room  scene  is  all  made  and 
covered.  It  looks  very  nice.  There  are  wings  to 
go  with  it,  so  that  the  set  matches.  Our  gray 
drop  and  side  wings  have  been  put  up,  too,  so 
that  the  stage  is  all  ready  now.  Jenkins  and  the 
gardener,  whose  name  is  McTavish,  are  to  bring 
in  the  branches  for  the  forest  scene  to-morrow 
afternoon. 

We  are  all  to  come  up  right  after  school  and 
get  things  ready  for  the  show.  We  are  to  have 
our  suppers  there.  I'll  bet  we  have  lots  of  good 
things  to  eat. 


198  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Saturday,  May  13. 

I  feel  like  I  was  a  real  actor — or  should  I  say 
actress?  I  guess  I'm  what  Hal  calls  an  "actor- 
ine."  Anyway,  whatever  it  is,  I  feel  just  like 
that.  And  I  know  now  how  the  kids  in  those 
companies  of  Shakespeare's  time  must  have  felt 
after  they  had  given  a  play  at  court.  I'm  all 
"feels"  to-day — so  many  to  the  square  inch  I 
can't  keep  track  of  them. 

We  gave  "Bianca"  at  Mrs.  Cawdor  MacAn- 
naly's  yesterday  evening,  and  that  is  the  reason 
for  my  present  state.  I  wish  I  had  words  to 
express  myself.  I  wish  I  could  tell  about  every- 
thing in  nice,  large  dictionary  language.  It  should 
be  done  in  very  fine  writing — ^just  like  the  charac- 
ters in  novels  speak  when  they  tell  about  some- 
thing big.  But  I  can't  do  it!  I'll  just  have  to 
write  it  like  I  think  it. 

After  school  we  all  went  home  and  put  on 
our  Sunday  clothes  and  packed  our  costumes  in 
suit-cases,  and  then  met  at  Hal's  and  John's, 
which  is  nearest  Mrs.  MacAnnaly's  house.  We 
felt  sort  of  scared — ^you  know,  like  your  heart  was 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  199 

beating  in  your  shoes  instead  of  in  its  right  place. 
Larry  partially  lost  his  grin,  which  is  a  sure  sign 
that  something  inside  of  him  has  gone  wrong. 

We  walked  up  to  the  MacAnnaly  house  as 
solemn  as  if  we  were  going  to  a  fxmeral.  Nobody 
had  a  thing  to  say. 

Once  Larry  said  Mrs.  MacAnnaly  must  have 
scads  of  dough,  and  Hal  said  it  was  vulgar  to 
speculate  upon  the  wealth  of  our  benefactress. 
Hal  knows  how  to  say  things  just  as  if  they  had 
been  written  by  one  of  our  best  novelists.  I 
was  sure  Larry  would  get  mad  and  he  and  Hal 
would  have  a  fight.  But  Larry  didn't — I  guess  he 
didn't  know  the  meaning  of  the  words  Hal  used. 

Finally  we  reached  the  house.  It  seemed  very 
large  and  we  felt  very  small. 

Jenkins  opened  the  door.  He  looked  much 
bigger  than  ever  before  and  quite  terrifying  in 
his  blue  coat  with  its  brass  buttons.  He  was 
quite  solemn,  too.  Herbert  held  on  to  my  hand 
as  though  he  was  afraid  he'd  run  if  he  didn't  hold 
on  to  some  one. 

Jenkins  said  that  his  mistress  would  see  us  in  a 
few  minutes.    Would  we  step  to  the  music-room? 


200  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

We  stepped. 

John  and  Larry  and  Herbert  went  from  rug  to 
rug  as  though  the  rugs  were  cakes  of  ice  in  a 
river  and  it  was  a  matter  of  life  and  death  to 
get  from  one  to  the  other.  Hal  and  I,  having 
had  tea  with  Mrs.  Cawdor  MacAnnaly,  were  not 
so  timid.    John  pretended  he  wasn't,  but  he  was. 

When  Jenkins  left  us  in  the  music-room,  which 
had  been  turned  into  the  stage,  we  all  felt  better. 
The  gray  drop  and  green  wings  from  the  Bam- 
ville  were  all  up,  and  the  place  had  a  sort  of  home- 
like look  that  the  big,  beautiful  rooms  we  had 
passed  through  didn't  have.  The  branches  to  use 
in  the  outdoor  scenes  were  piled  out  on  the  ter- 
race, and  the  new  chintz  room  scene,  and  the 
witch's  cave  were  in  the  part  of  the  music- 
room  behind  the  raised  platform. 

John  and  Herbert  and  Larry  were  delighted 
with  the  electric  footlights,  which  worked  from  a 
switch  at  the  side,  and  we  all  fell  to  talking  quite 
as  if  we  weren't  in  the  MacAnnaly  house  at  all, 
but  back  in  the  Bamville. 

We  were  going  it  full  tilt  when  Hal  looked  up 
and  saw  Mrs.  MacAnnaly  in  the  door.    Then  I  saw 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  201 

her,  too.  She  had  on  a  wonderful-looking  dress, 
all  white,  with  silvery  things  on  it,  and  diamonds 
at  her  throat  and  in  her  hair.  She  looked  just 
like  you  imagined  your  fairy  godmother  would. 

She  smiled  and  came  toward  us.  "And  how 
are  "Bobby  and  Hal?''  she  asked. 

We  shook  hands  and  said  we  were  all  right. 

"And  now,"  said  Mrs.  MacAnnaly,  "you  must 
introduce  me  to  the  other  Barnstormers.'' 

So  I  did,  but  I  don't  know  whether  I  did  it 
right  or  not.  I  just  said:  "This  is  John  Jameson 
and  this  is  Larry  Donovan  and  this  is  Herbert 
Hilton." 

She  made  us  all  feel  at  home  right  away,  and 
we  were  soon  talking  about  how  things  were  to 
be  for  the  play.  A  part  of  the  back  hall  had 
been  screened  off  for  our  dressing-room,  and  a 
Httle  lavatory  opened  off  of  this.  A  table  was  to 
be  set  in  the  music-room,  and  that  was  where  we 
were  to  eat  our  supper. 

"And  after  the  play,"  she  added,  as  she  turned 
to  go,  "I  want  all  my  young  actors  to  come  out 
and  meet  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  who  have  seen 
them  perform." 


202  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

That  wasn't  very  pleasant  to  look  forward  to. 
We  talked  about  it  after  she  had  gone,  but  we 
didn't  see  any  way  out  of  it. 

Before  supper  was  brought  in  we  got  the  stage 
all  ready  for  the  first  scene.  And,  in  order  that 
it  wouldn't  take  so  long  to  change  for  the  second 
scene,  we  put  up  the  witch's  cave  in  its  corner, 
and  covered  it  with  green  branches.  We  had  the 
caldron  and  the  fire  all  ready,  so  that  when  it 
came  time  for  the  second  scene  there  was  very 
little  to  do  to  get  the  stage  ready. 

Supper  was  great.  We  decided  before  it  came 
in  that  we  mustn't  eat  too  much,  because  if  we 
did  we  wouldn't  be  able  to  act  to  the  best 
of  our  ability.  Only  Larry  said  that  it  didn't 
matter  about  him  and  he  would  eat  all  he 
wanted. 

Jenkins  didn't  serve  it,  for  which  we  were  all 
very  glad.  A  girl  who  works  in  the  kitchen 
brought  the  things  in  to  us.  We  had  soup  and 
fish  and  chicken  and  vegetables,  and  salad  and 
ice-cream  and  candy.  We  found  it  very  hard  not 
to  fill  up  just  as  full  as  we  wanted  to;  but  we 
didn't — except  Larry,  and  he  ate  so  much  that  he 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  203 

might  just  as  well  have  gone  home  for  all  the 
good  he  did  us  afterward. 

When  supper  was  over  we  dressed  and  got  our- 
selves ready  for  the  show.  I  wished  all  the  time 
that  everything  we  had  was  ten  times  as  good  as 
it  was,  and  that  we  could  act  better  than  we 
could — and  that  everything  could  be  improved 
upon.  When  you  are  to  act  before  rich  folks  it 
makes  you  feel  that  everything  you  have  is  worse 
than  it  is.  But  since  Mrs.  MacAnnaly  had  told 
Hal  and  me  that  she  wanted  everything  just  as 
it  would  be  in  the  Barnville,  we  let  it  go  at  that, 
and  let  the  rich  folks  from  the  city  take  things 
in  true  Barnville  style.  We  wouldn't  have  been 
Barnstormers  if  we  had  tried  to  change  our  way 
of  doing  things. 

Just  a  little  before  eight  o'clock  the  orchestra 
came  into  the  music-room  and  began  to  tune  up. 
Wow!  My  heart  began  to  go  pitty-pat  then. 
There  were  six  of  them — ^real  musicians  that  had 
been  brought  down  from  the  city  to  furnish  music 
for  the  dance. 

We  were  all  ready,  so  we  came  on  the  stage  and 
sat  around,  waiting  till  it  was  time  for  the  show 


204  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

to  begin.  The  director  of  the  orchestra  came  in 
and  asked  if  there  were  any  "cues"  for  music, 
and  we  fixed  it  up  that  he  was  to  play  a  love- 
song  while  John  said  the  words  of  AdelherVs  song 
in  the  fourth  scene.  You  see  we  had  forgotten 
all  about  that  song,  and  Larry's  cousin  was  no- 
where to  be  had,  ha\dng  gone  off  on  a  trip  with 
the  high-school  baseball  team.  Then  in  the  last 
scene  the  director  said  he  would  play  something 
spooky  while  the  ghost  performed.  He  was  very 
nice  about  everything,  and  didn't  laugh  at  all, 
though  I  think  he  was  laughing  inside.  Well,  we 
showed  him  anyway!  Those  rich  folks  from  the 
dty  didn't  care  a  straw  about  his  old  orchestra, 
but  they  were  just  crazy  about  us. 

At  eight  o'clock  Mrs.  MacAnnaly  came  in  to 
see  if  everything  was  ready.  We  had  the  lights 
all  on  and  the  splotch  of  moonlight  from  the 
magic  lantern  turned  on  the  rustic  seat.  Mrs. 
MacAnnaly  said  it  looked  "lovely,"  and  she  was 
just  too  pleased  for  anything. 

"Now  you  must  be  good  boys  and  do  your 
best!"  she  said  as  we  turned  to  go,  and  we  all 
felt  like  we  would  do  anything  for  a  person  as 
beautiful  as  she  was. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  205 

The  orchestra  played  a  long  and  very  fancy 
" overture/'  and  then  a  short,  solemn  sort  of  piece. 
Just  as  this  finished,  John  and  Larry  pulled  back 
the  folding  doors. 

The  lights  in  the  big  library  had  been  turned 
low,  so  we  couldn't  see  the  people  very  clearly, 
but  I  could  tell  that  there  was  quite  a  crowd 
and  that  the  men  had  on  dress  suits  and  the 
ladies  were  all  low-necked  and  sparkly  like  Mrs. 
MacAnnaly. 

Hal  was  seated  on  the  rustic  seat,  his  head 
bent  forward,  and  the  villainous  look  on  his 
face  brought  out  clearly  by  the  blue  moonhght. 

A  Uttle  whispering  sound  went  through  the 
crowd  and  then  they  clapped  their  hands.  The 
scene  must  have  looked  very  nice,  indeed. 

Then  Hal  spoke.  Never  had  he  said  his  lines 
so  well.  I  was  so  interested  I  almost  forgot  when 
it  came  time  for  me  to  go  on  with  John.  The 
whole  scene  went  well.  We  seemed  to  get  into 
it  as  we  never  had  before. 

At  the  end  the  people  clapped  and  clapped,  and 
we  all  had  to  take  curtain  calls. 

Of  course  the  second  scene — the  witch  scene — 


2o6  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

went  well.  It  just  couldn't  help  it.  John  played 
old  Hilda  better  than  he  did  at  our  other  two  per- 
formances, and  in  the  lines  from  Shakespeare  he 
simply  did  himself  proud. 

Nothing  that  really  mattered  went  wrong  in 
the  whole  play.  It  was  over,  it  seemed  to  me, 
almost  before  I  could  reaUze  that  it  had  even 
started. 

At  the  end  we  had  to  bow  and  bow,  and  sev- 
eral of  the  ladies  threw  their  bouquets  to  us,  and 
then  everybody  clapped  some  more. 

Mrs.  MacAnnaly  came  rushing  back  to  see  us. 
"You  dear  boys!"  she  cried.  "I'm  proud  of  you! 
The  play  amused  us  as  nothing  else  could  have! 
Now  get  into  your  clothes  and  come  out  into  the 
library.     The  people  are  just  dying  to  meet  you." 

We  washed  the  paint  off  of  our  faces  and 
dressed,  but  it  was  ever  so  hard  to  get  up  cour- 
age to  go  out  and  meet  all  those  people. 

Hal  and  I  finally  led  the  way.  Mrs.  Mac- 
Annaly came  toward  us  as  we  entered  the  room. 
About  thirty  people  were  standing  about  talking. 
They  stopped  and  all  looked  in  our  direction.  I 
could  have  gone  through  the  floor! 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  207 

"These  boys/*  said  Mrs.  MacAimaly,  "are 
the  Barnstormers — Bobby  Archer,  Hal  Jameson, 
John  Jameson,  Herbert  Hilton,  and  Larry  Dono- 


van." 


Then  a  young  fellow,  with  taffy-colored  hair  and 
a  round  eye-glass  on  a  black  ribbon  and  no  chin, 
jumped  up  on  a  chair  and  said:  "I  say  now,  three 
cheers  for  the  Barnstormers!" 

That  made  us  feel  a  Httle  more  at  home.  Larry 
found  his  grin,  and  John  forgot  his  dignity,  and 
we  all  felt  more  comfortable. 

Then  a  nice,  tall,  gray-haired  gentleman  got  me 
off  in  one  corner  and  began  to  ask  me  about  the 
Barnstormers. 

He  wanted  to  know  first  where  we  got  the  name, 
and  when  I  told  him  from  Joseph  Jefferson's  auto- 
biography, he  certainly  looked  surprised. 

"And,  er,  the  idea-r?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  that  was  just  a  hunch,"  I  said. 

"A  what?"  he  asked. 

"Just  a  hunch — a  thing  that  pops  into  your 
head  when  you're  not  looking  for  it.  But  you 
know,"  I  went  on,  "we  have  historical  precedent 
for  a  children's  company  of  players.    There  were 


2o8  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

the  boys  who  acted  women's  parts  in  Shakespeare's 
time,  and  then  PauFs  Boys,  and  the  Children  of 
the  Chapel  Royal,  and  Beeston's  Boys " 

"Good  Lord!'*  said  the  gray-haired  gentleman 
to  Mrs.  MacAnnaly,  who  came  up  just  then, 
"Adelaide,  where  did  you  ever  find  such  children? 
Why,  this  youngster  knows  the  whole  history  of 
the  stage!*' 

Mrs.  MacAnnaly  laughed  and  put  her  arm 
around  me,  and  said  we  were  just  natural  boys 
who  had  followed  our  own  "bent" — ^whatever 
that  is — and  learned  a  thing  or  two  as  we  went 
along. 

We  were  sent  home  in  the  automobile — a  great 
big  one  that  held  us  all  without  crowding.  And 
when  the  driver  left  us  at  the  Jamesons'  he 
gave  each  one  of  us  an  envelope  with  our  name 
on  it,  and  me  another  that  said:  "For  the  Barn- 
stormers." 

We  could  hardly  wait  till  we  got  up  to  Hal's 
and  John's  room  to  see  what  was  inside. 

And  what  do  you  suppose? — a  dollar  bill  for 
each  one  of  us  and  five  for  the  Barnstormers' 
Dramatic  Club!    We  are  rich!  rich! 


THE  BARNSTORMERS 


209 


Sunday,  May  14. 

We  have  become  really  famous!  We  can't  be- 
lieve it,  but  we  have.  We  are  in  the  Sunday- 
paper,  which  tells  all  about  the  "unique  enter- 
tainment" Mrs.  Cawdor  MacAnnaly  furnished 
her  house-party  guests  on  Friday  evening.  I 
nearly  fell  over  when  I  saw  the  paper  this  morn- 
ing.   Here's  the  chpping: 

UNIQUE    ENTERTAINMENT 


Juvenile  Players  Give  Tragedy  at  Mrs. 
Cawdor  MacAnnaly's  House-Party 


Last  Friday  evening  the  week-end  house-party 
guests  at  Mrs.  Cawdor  MacAnnaly's  estate, 
Cawdor  House,  Jordan,  enjoyed  one  of  the  most 
unique  entertainments  furnished  by  a  hostess 
this  season.  This  was  nothing  less  than  a 
"  Comic  Tragedy  "  presented  by  a  cast  of  Jordan 
boys  who  have  organized  a  dramatic  club  and 
call  themselves  the  Barnstormers.  These  youth- 
ful actors  are  all  under  fourteen,  but  the  staging, 
acting  and  producing  of  their  plays  is  done  en- 
tirely by  themselves.  The  usual  place  of  per- 
formance is  the  "  Bamville,"  a  bam  converted 
by  the  bo^s  themselves  into  a  miniature  theater; 
but  for  Friday's  performance,  a  stage  was  built 
into  the  music  room  of  Cawdor  House.  The 
play  was  "Bianca,"  an  operatic  tragedy  taken 
from  Louisa  Alcott's  well-known  book  of  "Comic 
Tragedies."  The  boys  who  took  part  in  the 
play  were  John  and  Harold  Jameson,  Robert 
Archer,  Herbert  Hilton,  and  Lawrence  Donovan. 

The  play  was  followed  by  a  dance.  The  guests 
at  the  house-party  included  the  Misses  Ida  and 

I  am  not  quite  sure  that  this  is  real.  I'm  afraid 
I  shall  get  the  swell  head  and  explode !  Whoever 
thought  we  should  get  into  a  real  newspaper! 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Sunday,  May  21. 

Hal  and  I  have  decided  to  write  a  play!  We 
don't  know  yet  what  it  will  be  about,  but  we 
think  we  will  take  "King  Arthur's  Round  Table" 
or  "Robin  Hood  and  His  Merry  Men"  for  a 
subject.  Either  will  be  easier  than  making  up  a 
story  out  of  our  own  heads.  The  chief  trouble  is 
that  for  either  one  we  would  need  more  people 
than  we  have.  There  were  so  many  knights  of 
King  Arthur's  court,  not  to  mention  ladies,  that 
we  would  have  to  make  all  the  kids  in  town  into 
Barnstormers  to  take  the  parts.  And  the  same 
thing  is  true  of  Robin  Hood's  men.  There  are 
too  many  of  them. 

It  would  spoil  the  Barnstormers  if  we  took  in  a 
mess  of  new  members.  Of  course  Hal  and  John 
and  Larry  and  I  would  want  to  nm  things,  which 
we  would  have  a  perfect  right  to  do,  having  started 
the  Barnstormers;   and  of  course  the  new  mem- 

2ZO 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  211 

bers  would  want  to  run  things,  too,  and  there 
would  be  fights. 

It  would  be  just  like  it  was  the  summer  we  had 
a  fort  in  the  Jamesons'  back  yard  and  called  it 
"New  France."  We  had  a  governor  and  colo- 
nists, and  some  of  us  played  we  were  Indians  who 
wanted  to  drive  the  palefaces  back  to  the  land 
of  the  rising  sun.  Sometimes  one  boy  would  be  a 
whole  tribe  of  Indians  and  scalp  colonists  when 
they  went  to  work  in  their  gardens  at  the  edge 
of  the  deep  woods.  We  had  a  house  made  out 
of  old  matting  tacked  to  a  frame  of  poles  which 
was  the  shelter  for  all  of  us  inside  the  fort.  Then 
in  the  far  comer  of  the  yard  we  had  a  wigwam 
where  the  tribe  of  Indians  Uved.  It  was  all  great 
sport.  Hal,  and  John,  and  Larry,  and  myself,  and 
Sarah  and  EUzabeth  Jameson  started  it.  We 
didn't  have  girls  right  at  first,  but  we  decided  we 
would  have  to  have  some  if  we  had  a  regular  col- 
ony. So  we  had  a  ship-load  come  over  and  we 
bought  'em,  just  like  they  did  that  time  at  James- 
town. Well,  after  "New  France "  was  a  sure  thing 
and  we  had  put  a  brick  furnace  inside  the  matting 
house  (it  smoked,  but  that  didn't  matter,  for  we 


212  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

felt  we  must  have  modern  conveniences) — after 
all  this  had  been  done,  Cribby  McCormack,  and 
Jimmy  Ames,  and  some  girls  came  around  and 
wanted  to  be  new  colonists.  We  pretended  they 
came  over  in  a  ship  from  France,  and  we  wel- 
comed them  by  firing  a  salute  of  one  firecracker, 
and  generally  did  the  thing  up  right.  But  they 
busted  up  the  whole  colony.  That  very  day  they 
had  a  revolution,  like  those  they  have  in  South 
America,  and  tried  to  put  Cribby  in  as  governor. 
There  was  a  sham  fight,  which  got  to  be  a  real 
one,  and  Larry  knocked  in  one  of  Cribby's  teeth, 
and  everybody  went  home  mad,  and  everybody's 
fathers  and  mothers  said  they  didn't  know  what 
children  were  coming  to,  because  there  weren't 
any  such  goings-on  when  they  were  kids. 

Well,  to  return  to  the  play.  We  don't  know 
quite  how  to  go  about  writing  a  play,  but  we 
think  that  if  we  try  hard  enough  maybe  we  can 
write  one.  We  want  it  to  be  full  of  fine  language 
and  thriUing  deeds,  and  have  the  hero  and  the 
heroine  brought  together  in  the  end  to  five  happy 
ever  after.  We  want  to  make  it  about  as  long  as 
"The  Captive  of  Castile."  I  expect  Hal  will  have 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  213 

to  do  most  of  the  writing,  since  he  can  use  bigger 
words  than  I  can.  He  has  read  more,  too,  which 
helps  your  imagination. 

We  have  been  reading  some  plays  this  week  to 
see  how  they  are  put  together.  We  read  "Mac- 
beth/' because  of  the  witches,  and  liked  it  very 
much.  Then  we  got  another  play  at  the  Ubrary, 
called  "Hedda  Gabler,''  which  was  by  a  man 
named  Ibsen.  We  thought  it  was  stupid,  and 
couldn't  understand  it  at  all,  but  the  Kbrarian, 
who  is  a  young  lady  with  puffs,  said  we  ought  to 
like  the  play  because  Ibsen  was  quite  fashionable 
now.  Anyway,  we  didn't,  which  I  suppose  wasn't 
Ibsen's  fault,  but  ours. 

"Macbeth"  is  all  divided  up  into  scenes — too 
many  for  us.  We  will  have  to  write  our  play 
more  like  the  "Comic  Tragedies,"  which  have 
about  eight  scenes  for  a  whole  play. 

We  want  a  witch  in  it,  because  witches'  caves 
make  such  a  hit  with  the  audience.  And  we  want 
a  priest,  because  when  we  had  Hernando^s  cell  in 
"The  Captive  of  Castile"  that  was  the  best  part 
of  the  whole  play. 

I  don't  see  how  we  can  get  a  witch's  cave  and 


214  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

a  priest's  cell  into  the  story  of  either  King 
Arthur  or  Robin  Hood;  but  Hal  says  there  is 
always  a  way. 

As  soon  as  we  decide  on  our  story  we  are  go- 
ing to  begin  writing  the  play.  As  I  said,  we  don't 
know  how  plays  are  written,  but  we  want  to  write 
one,  so  we  are  going  to  make  a  try  at  it.  We  were 
talking  about  play  writing  yesterday,  and  we  de- 
cided that  when  we  wrote  ours  we  would  take 
turn  about  as  different  characters  and  act  out 
the  play,  making  up  the  speeches  as  we  went 
along.  Then  afterward  we  could  write  them  off 
as  we  remembered  them.  That  is,  we  would  have 
a  pretend  show  first  and  write  that  up  into  a  real 
one  afterward. 

That  may  not  be  the  best  way  to  write  a  play, 
but  we  are  going  to  try  it  out  and  see  how  it  works. 

Thursday,  May  25. 

Hal  and  I  have  given  up  both  King  Arthur 
and  Robin  Hood  and  made  up  a  plot  of  our 
own  for  our  play.  The  hero  is  something  Hke 
Robin  Hood,  because  he  is  an  outlaw  and  a  very 
brave  man.    The  play  is  all  to  happen  in  a  great 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  215 

forest,  like  Sherwood  Forest,  where  Robin  Hood 
lived.  The  heroine  is  the  daughter  of  an  English 
lord,  who  is  the  outlaw's  enemy  and  is  planning 
to  capture  him  and  have  him  hung.  We  thought 
first  about  having  her  a  gypsy  girl,  but  we  de- 
cided a  lord's  daughter  gave  more  tone  to  the 
play,  and  since  we  could  have  her  one  just  as 
easy  as  the  other,  why,  it's  a  lord's  daughter  she 
is  to  be.  We  haven't  named  her  yet,  but  we 
think  Rosalind  sounds  quite  fitting.  "The  Lady 
Rosalind"  has  a  very  romantic  sound  to  it  and 
will  make  a  nice  fine  in  the  play  every  time  it  has 
to  be  said.  Her  father  is  to  be  called  Lord  Graf- 
ton de  Vere.  The  outlaw  isn't  named  yet.  We 
have  talked  of  several  names  for  him,  but  we 
haven't  found  one  yet.  "John  of  the  Forest" 
soimds  too  plain,  and  wouldn't  do,  since  the  John 
in  our  company  is  to  play  the  part.  We  have 
thought  about  "The  Red  Ranger,"  and  if  we  take 
that  for  his  name  we  will  have  him  dress  all  in 
red.  Then  his  first  name  could  be  Rupert — which 
is  a  nice  name  and  goes  well  with  Rosalind,  The 
trouble  with  "Rupert  the  Red  Ranger,"  is  that 
it  sounds  like  the  title  to  a  penny  dreadful.     "  Red 


2i6  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Roland"  might  do,  or  "Red  Rudolph" — except 
that  the  last  one  sounds  too  Dutch.  I  think, 
though,  that  we  want  a  "Red"  before  it  and  want 
it  to  begin  with  R.  Calling  the  hero  "Red"  gives 
us  such  a  good  chance  to  dress  him  up  in  a  new 
style. 

The  plot  is  not  very  well  worked  out  yet,  but 
we  are  certain  about  a  few  things.  Lady  Rosa- 
lindas father,  Lord  Crafton  de  Vere,  is  to  be  the 
outlaw's  worst  enemy  and  always  seeking  to  have 
him  hung.  This  is  because  the  outlaw  knows  the 
deep  secret  of  Lord  Grafton's  life.  There  is  an 
old  priest  who  knows  still  more  about  this  secret; 
he  is  the  outlaw's  friend.  Then  Jglma,  a  druid 
witch  and  priestess, — some  name! — is  leagued  with 
Lord  Crafton,  who  gives  her  gold  for  poisons  and 
charms. 

Lord  Crafton  tries  to  make  Lady  Rosalind  wed 
an  old  man  who  has  a  great  deal  of  money,  but 
she  refuses,  and  escapes  to  the  forest,  to  her  out- 
law lover,  disguised  as  a  boy.  Lord  Crafton  comes 
after  her,  and  in  the  fight  is  slain. 

Then  Rosalind  is  torn  'twixt  love  and  duty. 
How  can  she  wed  her  father's  slayer?    In  her  dis- 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  217 

tress  she  seeks  the  cell  of  Friar  Joseph,  an  old 
priest,  and  to  him  lays  bare  her  heart.  But,  as  I 
said  before,  the  priest  knows  the  secret  of  the 
dead  Lord  Crafton^s  Hfe.  "Know,  daughter, ^^  he 
says,  "Lord  Crafton  was  not  thy  father.  True, 
thou  art  a  de  Vere,  but  he  whom  thou  hast  called 
father  was  in  reaHty  a  cousin  of  your  father. 
While  yet  you  were  a  babe  in  arms,  Lord  Crafton 
waged  war  upon  your  father,  Gerald  de  Vere, 
burned  his  castle  to  the  ground,  and  put  all  to 
the  sword  but  you,  a  babe  of  seven  months." 

So  Rosalind  can  marry  her  outlaw  lover,  after 
all,  and  everything  ends  happily. 

I  think  that  will  make  a  very  thrilUng  play, 
and  I  am  glad  I  can  wear  boy's  clothes  for  once, 
even  though  I  am  supposed  to  be  a  girl  dressed 
up. 

Sunday,  May  28. 

The  play  is  coming  along.  We  have  done  two 
scenes  and  hope  to  write  two  more  this  week. 
We  are  very  well  pleased  with  the  two  scenes 
already  finished,  for  they  are  most  romantic  and 
soimd  very  fine. 


2i8  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

We  have  decided  to  call  the  hero  "Rupert  the 
Red  Ranger/'  after  all,  and  make  that  the  name 
of  the  play,  too.  It  do^s  sound  a  bit  Uke  the  ti- 
tle of  a  penny  dreadful,  but  that  doesn't  matter. 
It  will  look  very  good  on  the  bills. 

In  the  first  scene  Rosalind  is  waiting  for  Rupert 
the  Red  Ranger,  They  have  planned  a  meeting  in 
the  garden,  for  they  dare  not  meet  other  than  in 
secret  because  of  the  cruel  wickedness  of  Lord 
Crafton  de  Vere,  Rosalind's  father.  Rosalind  is 
seated  in  the  garden  wishing  that  Rupert  would 
come,  when  a  peddler  enters  and  offers  her  his 
wares.  She  tells  him  she  does  not  care  for  the 
things  he  has;  that  she  fain  would  be  in  the 
greenwood  where  his  laces  and  jewels  would  be  of 
little  use.  Then  the  peddler  says  how  he  thinks 
she  must  be  in  love,  and  she  says  yes,  she  is; 
and  he  wants  to  know  if  the  man  is  worthy  of  so 
fair  a  flower,  and  she  tells  him  that  her  lover  is 
the  finest  man  that  ever  Hved.  She  ends  up  by 
saying  that  she  wishes  he  were  there  before  her 
now.  And  then  Rupert,  who  was  the  peddler  all 
the  time,  throws  off  his  disguise  and  stands  before 
her. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  219 

Then  they  have  a  mushy  love-scene  which  we 
wrote  to  sound  just  Hke  those  in  the  *' Comic 
Tragedies."  We  would  have  Uked  to  leave  that 
part  out,  but  you  just  can't  have  a  play  without 
a  lot  of  that  sort  of  slush  in  it.  Your  audience 
won't  stand  for  it  being  left  out. 

Rosalind  and  Rupert  are  interrupted  by  Lord 
Crafton  de  Vere,  The  old  man  has  a  regular  je- 
whimminy-fit  when  he  finds  Rupert  there  in  his 
garden  making  love  to  his  daughter.  He  draws 
his  sword  and  is  going  to  slay  Rupert  on  the  spot, 
but  he  does  not  reckon  on  his  man.  In  the 
fight  that  follows,  Rupert  disarms  Lord  Crafton 
and  could  have  killed  him  very  easily,  only  he  is 
too  noble  to  slay  a  defenceless  man.  So  he  just 
tells  the  old  boy  to  keep  his  mouth  shut  and 
not  dare  call  for  help  or  he'll  run  him  through. 
Then  he  bids  Rosalind  farewell  and  goes. 

Lord  Crafton  is  mad  as  a  wet  hen.  He  drags 
Rosalind  off  and  swears  that  he  will  see  her  mar- 
ried to  old  Lord  Grogermere,  of  Grogermere  Hall, 
the  very  next  day. 

The  second  scene  is  quite  as  thrilling  as  a  wild- 
west  film  at  a  moving-picture  show.    Rosalind 


220  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

proves  herself  to  be  the  bravest  of  the  brave. 
Hal  and  I  are  very  proud  of  her. 

The  scene  is  Rosalind's  chamber,  which  has  a 
balcony  at  the  back  like  Bianca^s  chamber  had. 
The  time  is  the  day  following  Scene  One. 

Rosalind  has  sent  word  to  Rupert  that  her 
father  is  forcing  her  to  wed  Lord  Grogermere  and 
that  he  must  save  her  at  once.  She  fears  he  has 
not  gotten  the  message,  for  it  is  almost  time  for 
the  wedding,  and  still  there  has  come  no  word 
from  Rupert.  But  all  at  once  an  arrow  comes 
flying  into  the  room.  Fastened  to  it  is  a  silken 
cord  and  a  note.  Rupert  has  shot  the  arrow! 
The  note  tells  her  to  draw  in  the  cord  until  she 
comes  to  a  rope  which  is  fastened  to  it;  then  to 
draw  in  the  rope  until  she  secures  a  package  which 
contains  a  disguise  for  her  and  the  end  of  a  rope 
ladder  which  she  is  to  fasten  to  the  balcony  and 
use  as  a  means  of  escape. 

Rosalind  does  as  she  is  told.  First  comes  the 
rope,  which  she  draws  in  until  she  comes  to  the 
package.  She  stops  to  open  that,  and  finds  that 
the  disguise  is  a  suit  of  red  just  like  that  Red  Ru- 
pert himself  wears.    She  is  to  escape  disguised  as 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  221 

a  boy!  Then  she  pulls  up  the  rope  ladder  and 
fastens  it  to  the  balcony.  And  it  is  none  too  soon, 
for  a  knock  comes  at  the  door. 

Lord  Crafton  de  Vere  and  Lord  Grogermere  enter. 
They  have  come  to  take  Rosalind  to  the  church 
where  she  is  to  marry  Lord  Grogermere.  Rosalind 
tells  them  she  is  not  yet  ready — they  must  give 
her  time  to  dress.  So  she  goes  into  her  bedroom. 
Lord  Crafton  de  Vere  and  Lord  Grogermere  have  a 
scrap  about  how  much  Lord  Grogermere  is  to  pay 
for  Rosalind.  Crafton  finally  makes  Grogermere 
agree  to  three  thousand  ducats. 

Then  Rosalind  calls  to  her  father  and  tells  him 
to  go  get  her  jewels  from  the  tower  where  they  are 
kept.  As  soon  as  he  is  gone  she  slips  out,  unseen 
by  Grogermere,  and  before  he  knows  what  has  hap- 
pened has  tied  him  to  his  chair.  Then  she  escapes 
by  the  rope  ladder  and  joins  Rupert.  Meanwhile 
Lord  Grogermere  is  calling  for  help,  and  Lord  Craf- 
ton hears  him  and  returns.  When  he  discovers 
Rosalindas  flight,  Crafton  is  pretty  much  upset. 
But  he  and  Grogermere  vow  to  capture  her  and 
wreak  a  deep  revenge  on  Rupert  the  Red  Ranger. 

We  have  changed  the  plot  quite  a  Httle  from 


222  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

the  way  we  doped  it  out  at  first.  The  next  scene 
is  to  be  the  cell  of  Friar  Joseph,  a  priest.  We  are 
going  to  have  the  wedding  take  place  there.  Hal 
and  I  think  that  will  be  quite  a  stunt — a  wedding 
as  part  of  the  play.  I've  been  to  one  wedding,  my 
cousin  Elsie's,  and  Hal  has  been  to  two;  so  we 
think  we  can  remember  enough  about  how  those 
were  done  to  fix  up  a  wedding  scene  in  the  play. 

School  will  be  out  for  the  summer  vacation  this 
week!  Friday!  We  are  getting  ready  now  for 
our  commencement,  which  comes  Friday  night. 
We  have  been  rehearsing  our  parts  for  a  month. 
Neither  Hal,  nor  Larry,  nor  myself  have  any- 
thing to  do  except  sing  in  the  chorus. 

Brander  Edgecomb  is  the  only  one  who  has  to 
speak.  He  is  a  thing  you  call  a  "valedictorian,'' 
which  is  quite  as  bad  as  it  sounds. 

He  has  written  his  own  speech,  with  teacher's 
help.  It's  about  "What  the  Future  Holds." 
We  have  kidded  him  about  it,  but  he  doesn't  care. 
He's  awful  smart.  He's  going  to  be  a  lawyer,  Hke 
his  father,  and  keep  people  who  should  go  to  the 
penitentiary  from  having  to  do  it. 

Besides  Brander's  speech,  Mary  Wallace  is  to 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  223 

play  a  violin  solo,  and  Ella  Andrews  is  to  play  a 
piece  on  the  piano,  and  we  are  all  going  to  sing 
"Sweet  and  Low,"  and  "The  Stars  and  Stripes 
Forever." 

To-night  we  have  what  you  call  the  "Bacca- 
laureate." (I  know  that's  spelled  right,  because 
I've  spelled  it  five  times  and  looked  it  up  in  the 
dictionary.)  Larry  calls  it  the  "Tobacco-laure- 
ate." It's  a  sermon.  I  don't  like  sermons. 
But  we  have  to  go.  The  Methodist  preacher,  who 
has  a  long  neck  and  a  big  Adam's  apple,  is  going 
to  do  the  preaching.  I  know  I'll  have  to  watch 
his  Adam's  apple  all  the  time.  It  jumps  up  and 
down  in  the  funniest  way.  Makes  me  think  of  a 
tin  monkey  I  had  once  that  climbed  a  string! 

After  the  sermon  we  all  have  to  sing  a  hynm, 
after  which  we  get  to  go  home.  The  "Baccalau- 
reate" is  to  be  in  Masonic  Hall.  All  who  are 
being  graduated  are  to  sit  up  in  front  on  the  plat- 
form. 

And  that  makes  me  think!  I  can't  see  Rever- 
end Jimson's  Adam's  apple,  either,  because  his 
back  will  be  toward  us  all  the  time! 


CHAPTER  XVII 

Sunday,  June  4. 

I  am  now  graduated  from  the  eighth  grade. 
Next  fall  I  will  start  in  high  school.  I  can  hardly 
beUeve  it  is  all  true,  and  I  feel  very  old  and 
grown  up. 

Friday  night  we  had  our  commencement.  It 
was  what  the  newspaper  calls  a  "great  occasion. *' 
For  myself,  I  would  just  as  soon  have  had  the 
whole  thing  left  out,  and  been  passed  on  to  high 
school  without  all  the  fuss  and  feathers.  But  the 
girls  and  our  fathers  and  mothers  would  never 
have  been  satisfied  without  commencement  ex- 
ercises. Some  of  those  who  graduated  from  the 
eighth  grade  with  me  will  not  go  into  high  school 
next  year,  but  to  work,  and  so  this  is  the  only 
commencement  they  will  ever  have.  That  seems 
queer!  I  am  just  half  through  going  to  school, 
for  I  have  four  years  of  high  school  and  four  years 

of  college  ahead  of  me,  while  John  Stearns  and 

224 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  225 

Betty  Proctor  and  several  others  are  through 
going  to  school  now. 

Commencement  was  in  the  Masonic  Hall.  It 
started  at  seven-thirty  and  lasted  two  hours. 
First,  we  all  met  in  a  Httle  room  that  opens  off 
the  back  corridor  of  the  assembly  hall  and  waited 
there  until  the  time  came  to  march  in.  We  had 
practised  getting  up  to  the  stage  several  times 
that  afternoon;  so  we  weren't  trying  it  for  the 
first  time.  At  seven-thirty-five,  by  my  new  watch, 
which  father  gave  me  for  a  graduating  present, 
the  high-school  orchestra  began  to  play.  Teacher 
Uned  us  up  ready,  and  we  counted  ^^left,  right" 
several  times  and  were  off. 

Ella  Aherns  and  I  were  the  first  ones,  because 
our  names  begin  with  A.  I  wished  then  that  my 
name  was  Zaring!  Ella  was  all  fluffy  ruffles  and 
pink  hair  ribbons.  I  had  on  my  new  serge  suit. 
(It  should  have  been  long  pants,  because  I  am 
quite  taU  enough  for  them,  but  it  isn't.  It  is 
just  a  knicker  suit  like  those  I  have  always  worn.) 

Ella  and  I  went  quite  slowly,  keeping  perfect 
step,  and  doing  our  best  to  keep  time  with  the 
music,  which  wasn't  very  smooth,  but  went  fast 


226  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

one  minute,  and  slow  the  next.  It  wasn't  easy  to 
lead  the  procession  up  that  aisle  with  everybody 
looking  at  us  as  if  we  were  a  bride  and  groom 
marching  up  a  church  aisle.  I  know  now  just  how 
it  feels  to  get  married.  You  have  an  all-gone 
feeling  in  the  pit  of  your  stomach,  and  you  hope 
your  legs  will  keep  on  moving,  but  you  doubt  it, 
because  they  feel  like  they  might  get  cramps  be- 
fore they  carried  you  the  rest  of  the  way  up  the 
long,  long  aisle. 

But  Ella  and  I  did  get  up  to  that  platform  at 
last.  When  we  came  to  it  we  turned,  one  to  the 
left  and  one  to  the  right,  going  up  the  steps  at 
either  side.  We  met  then  and  stood  up  before 
the  two  middle  seats  of  the  front  row.  After 
every  one  else  had  marched  up  we  all  sat  down. 

Then  the  Reverend  Jimson  prayed  for  our 
"young  souls,''  and  we  had  some  more  music. 
After  that  Brander  Edgecomb  gave  his  valedic- 
tory about  "What  the  Future  Holds."  He  was 
terribly  scared,  and  his  voice  sounded  as  small  as 
"the  still,  small  voice"  Reverend  Jimson  talked 
about  in  the  Baccalaureate  sermon.  But  it  got 
a  little  louder,  and  Brander  did  pretty  well  be- 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  227 

fore  he  came  to  the  grand  finish.  The  end  was 
very  flowery,  and  sounded  just  Hke  the  speeches 
his  father  gives  on  Decoration  Day  and  Fourth 
of  July.  He  used  very  fine  language,  most  of 
which  none  of  us  understood.  I  don't  think  he 
understood  it  himself. 

We  had  some  other  stunts,  and  then  the  super- 
intendent of  the  city  schools,  Mr.  Hanson,  gave 
a  talk,  and  handed  out  our  diplomas,  which  were 
tied  with  blue  and  white  ribbon.  After  that 
everybody  shook  hands  with  everybody  else  and 
everybody  else's  fathers  and  mothers  and  broth- 
ers and  sisters  and  cousins,  and  then  we  all  went 
home. 

I  was  glad  when  it  was  over. 

That  pesky  commencement  made  it  impossible 
for  Hal  and  me  to  do  anything  to  "Rupert  the  Red 
Ranger,"  but  now  we  will  have  all  sorts  of  time, 
and  can  be  real  dramatists. 

We  have  fitted  up  a  study  in  the  Bamville, 
where  we  are  going  to  do  our  writing.  We  have 
a  dictionary,  pens,  ink,  and  paper,  and  a  desk 
made  out  of  a  packing-box. 

To-morrow  we  begin  work. 


228  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Friday,  June  9. 

"Rupert  the  Red  Ranger"  is  really  becoming 
a  play.    It  is  very  thrilling,  and  quite  poetic. 

I  am  writing  this  in  the  Barnville  at  our  dra- 
matic desk.  The  other  day  I  brought  down  the 
old  ledger  in  which  I  have  been  keeping  this  record 
of  the  Barnstormers.  I  have  a  little  niche  under 
the  eaves  where  I  hide  it.  I  have  been  keeping 
the  book  under  the  window-seat  in  my  room,  but 
I  was  always  afraid  some  one  would  find  it  there. 
Here  it  is  safe.  No  one,  not  even  Hal,  knows  I 
have  been  keeping  a  record  of  the  Barnstormers. 
It  would  be  most  embarrassing  to  have  any  one 
read  it.  I  am  sorry  now  that  I  didn't  have  a 
better  book  when  I  started  the  record.  This  old 
ledger  is  very  heavy  and  cumbersome,  and  then 
I'm  always  having  to  cut  out  pages  that  have 
been  used,  and  scratch  out  lines  that  spoil  pages 
which  are  perfectly  good  otherwise. 

Hal  left  just  before  I  began  to  write.  We  have 
been  working  on  "Rupert"  all  afternoon,  and 
have  just  finished  the  fourth  scene.  It's  dread- 
fully hot  up  here,  and  we  had  to  shed  most  of  our 
clothes  in  order  to  stand  the  heat.     But  we  can't 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  229 

sit  out  under  the  apple-tree  in  the  garden,  be- 
cause the  ants  and  mosquitoes  bite  us,  and  there's 
a  partly  tame  snake  that  is  apt  to  spoil  the  most 
thriUing  part  of  our  writing  by  suddenly  crawling 
over  our  bare  legs.  This  is  our  study,  and  here 
we  will  write  until  we  melt. 

"Rupert''  isn't  like  we  planned  it  at  all.  We 
discovered  a  more  thrilling  way  to  finish  it  than 
that  we  had  at  first.  And  Jglma,  the  witch,  has 
much  more  to  do  than  before.  The  fifth  and 
seventh  scenes  are  to  be  in  her  cave  and  the 
third  and  sixth  in  Friar  JosepKs  cell.  That 
makes  two  cave  scenes  and  two  cell  scenes!  The 
play  is  sure  to  be  a  great  success.  And  we  have 
changed  the  name  of  Rosalind  and  her  father  to 
Vere  de  VerCj  because,  it's  a  much  finer-sound- 
ing name  than  just  de  Vere. 

In  the  third  scene  Rupert  and  Rosalind  come 
to  Friar  Joseph  to  be  married.  The  old  Friar  is 
quite  surprised  when  Rupert  brings  Rosalind  in 
and  he  sees  what  he  thinks  is  a  boy.  He  says: 
"What? — methought  thou  saidst  a  bride — and 
here  I  see  only  a  pretty  boy — such  a  page, 
truly,  as  well  might  serve  a  queen." 


230  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Then  Rosalind  speaks  up.  "Oh,  father,  forgive 
me,"  she  says.  "But  't  is  I  who  am  the  bride. 
To  escape  my  cruel  father  I  fled  thus  disguised. 
Here  soon  I  hope  to  put  on  my  woman's  garments 
and  as  my  dear  Ruperfs  wife  make  a  home  in 
these  forest  glades.  But  for  the  present  you  must 
take  me  as  I  am." 

The  Friar  tells  Rosalind  he  is  proud  of  her 
courage  and  bravery  and  that  he  will  be  happy 
to  perform  the  ceremony  that  will  make  her  Ru- 
perfs wife.  So  she  and  Rupert  are  married  and 
leave  to  seek  out  their  forest  home. 

The  fourth  scene  is  in  the  forest.  Rupert  and 
Rosalind  are  on  their  way  to  join  Ruperfs  fol- 
lowers. Rosalind  is  very  tired,  for  they  have  come 
a  long  way  since  she  fled  from  her  father's  castle. 
So  she  decides  to  he  down  and  rest  while  Rupert 
goes  to  Ught  the  signal-fire  that  will  tell  his  men 
they  are  coming.  He  leaves  her,  and  she  goes  to 
sleep.  Lord  Crafton  and  Lord  Grogermere  come  in. 
They  cannot  see  Rosalind,  for  she  is  concealed  by 
some  bushes.  They  have  become  separated  from 
their  guard  and  are  wandering  about  in  the  forest 
trying  to  find  a  way  out.    Old' Grogermere  is  so 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  231 

badly  scared  that  he  hasn't  any  sense  left.  He 
is  afraid  some  of  Ruperfs  men  will  capture  him 
and  make  him  their  prisoner.  He  and  Crafton 
talk  about  what  is  the  best  way  for  them  to  es- 
cape from  the  forest,  and  finally  make  up  their 
minds  to  go  to  old  Jglma  and  get  her  aid.  So 
they  start,  but  before  they  have  gone  far  they 
stumble  over  the  sleeping  Rosalind.  Grogermere 
thinks  he's  lost  for  sure  because  he  doesn't  rec- 
ognize Rosalind,  But  Crafton  knows  his  daugh- 
ter and  he  binds  her  fast  before  she  can  awake. 

When  Rosalind  comes  to  her  senses  and  finds 
that  she  is  a  captive,  and  that  her  father  and 
Grogermere  are  the  captors,  she  is  quite  upset. 
She  tells  them  that  Rupert  will  have  revenge  upon 
them.  Then  the  crafty  Crafton  makes  up  a  wicked 
lie  to  suit  the  occasion,  and  tells  Rosalind  that  he 
has  slain  Rupert  and  that  the  revenge  of  which 
she  speaks  will  never  be  taken.  Rosalind  is 
broken-hearted.  Crafton  and  Grogermere  drag  her 
off  toward  Jglma's  cave. 

Then  Rupert^s  voice  is  heard  singing  a  love- 
song.  He  enters,  looking  for  Rosalind,  He  finds 
her  gone,  and  the  signs  of  a  struggle.    "Gone! 


232  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Gone!''  he  cries.  "Do  my  eyes  deceive  me? 
Nay!  There  has  been  a  struggle.  'T  is  her  father 
and  old  Grogermere  have  done  this  deed.''  (He 
blows  three  times  on  his  pipe.)  "Now  come,  my 
men!  We  will  win  the  lady  back  and  punish  her 
rash  captors!    RosaUnd!    Rosalind!" 

Wednesday,  June  14. 

"Rupert  the  Red-  Ranger"  is  now  a  play.  We 
have  finished  it.  But  Hal  and  I  didn't  do  it  all. 
John  wrote  the  witch  scenes  for  himself,  because 
he  thought  he  could  do  them  better  than  we  and 
because  he  became  interested  in  the  play  and 
wanted  to  have  a  hand  in  it. 

The  play  is  quite  as  long  as  any  of  those  we 
have  given,  and  sounds  very  much  like  them,  too. 
We  think  it's  better  in  some  ways,  though.  It  is 
more  thriUing,  and  thrills  are  what  you  want  in 
plays  nowadays.  Then  the  witch's  cave  scenes 
are  written  in  poetry,  which  gives  a  higher  tone 
to  the  whole  play  and  is  Kke  Shakespeare. 

The  fifth  scene  is  the  first  of  the  two  cave 
scenes.  It  is  quite  a  thriller,  but  not  equal  to 
the   seventh,   where  Jglma^s  power   is  broken. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  233 

Hal  and  I  planned  these  scenes  and  John  did 
most  of  the  writing. 

When  the  curtain  rises  on  the  fifth  scene,  Jglma 
is  bending  over  her  caldron  mixing  up  a  spell. 
She  puts  all  sorts  of  things  into  the  "pot  of  boil- 
ing blood,"  including  "a  wicked  Ue,  nipped  in  the 
bud,"  "the  wriggling  wiggles  of  a  typhoid  germ," 
and  a  "hangman's  smile."  She  cools  the  whole 
mess  with  poison  rank,  and  has  just  finished  this 
when  the  fire's  blaze  tells  her  that  something  evil 
comes  that  way,  but  worse — for  her — that  a  per- 
son who  is  innocent  and  brave  and  true  is  also 
coming  to  her  cave.  This  terrifies  the  old  witch 
and  she  cries  out: 

"Haste!    Haste  ye  devils!    Come  and  aid  me 
quick. 
For  goodness  breaks  my  power  and  makes  me 
sick!" 

Then  some  one  knocks  and  asks  to  be  let  into 
the  cave.  It  is  Crafton  with  Lord  Grogermere  and 
Rosalind,  Jglma  knows  Lord  Crafton  of  old,  so 
she  lets  him  in.    Rosalind  has  pulled  herself  to- 


234  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

gether,  for  now  she  knows  Rupert  is  not  dead, 
having  heard  his  song  in  the  distance  as  her  father 
dragged  her  off. 

Crafton  tells  Jglma  he  wishes  her  to  work  a 
charm  on  Rosalind  that  will  make  her  forget  Ru- 
pert and  love  Grogermere.  Rosalind  defies  them 
to  do  their  worst  and  says  she  will  never  love 
any  one  but  Rupert.  Jglma  is  a  bit  upset  herself, 
as  you  may  see  from  her  next  speech: 

"Ha! — ^Rupert!    I  do  fear  that  man! 
'T  was  long  ago  foretold  that  when  my  power 
Broke,  and  I  faced  my  last  stem  reckoning  hour, 
And  all  my  magic  from  me  far  had  fled, 
Vengeance  would  come  upon  me  clad  in  red!" 

But,  in  spite  of  her  fears,  Jglma  decides  to  do 
her  worst.  She  goes  to  the  caldron  and  dips  her 
fingers  into  it,  scattering  the  drops  of  its  vile 
liquid  in  a  circle  about  Rosalind.  She  mutters 
some  charm  as  she  does  this.  The  spell  works, 
for  Rosalind  is  bound  fast.  Jglma  tells  her  she 
shall  never  move  from  that  charmed  circle  till 
she  leaves  it  as  Grogermere^ s  bride.    Rosalind  says 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  235 

she  will  never  leave  it  then  until  death  releases 
her.  Then  Jglma  tries  a  new  plan  and  puts  Ro- 
sdind  to  sleep.  As  our  heroine  falls  unconscious, 
the  vile  witch  cries  out: 

"Ha!    ha!    Morpheus'  bride  thou  art, 
And  slumbering,  mine  to  use  will  be  thy  heart!" 

In  the  sixth  scene  Rupert  goes  to  Friar  Joseph 
to  learn  how  he  may  rescue  Rosalind  from  Jglma^s 
power.  It  is  very  lucky  he  goes  to  Friar  Joseph^ 
for  the  old  priest  knows  the  very  trick  that  will 
put  Jglma  out  of  business. 

He  has  heard  from  the  old  hermit  who  lived  in 
his  cell  before  he  came  to  it  that  Jglma^s  power 
is  in  the  great  oak-tree  before  her  cave,  and  that 
as  long  as  it  Hves  she  will  live,  but  that  when  it 
dies  she  will  die  and  her  power  will  cease  to  be. 

That  is  all  the  cue  Rupert  needs.  Off  he  hastens 
to  gather  his  men  and  attack  the  ancient  oak. 

Meanwhile,  poor  Rosalind  still  sleeps,  and  the 
wicked  Jglma  works  her  vile  magic  to  turn  the 
trusting  maiden's  love  to  the  ancient  Grogermere, 
She  has  completed  her  spell,  and  nothing  now 


236  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

remains  but  for  Lord  Grogermere  to  wake  Rosa- 
lind and  make  her  his.  The  charm  has  been  so 
worked  that  whoever  she  first  looks  on  upon 
awakening,  him  will  she  love.  But  old  Groger- 
mere is  scared  'most  out  of  his  senses  by  the 
things  that  have  been  happening  in  Jglma^s  cave, 
and,  being  a  coward  by  nature,  he  hasn't  wits 
enough  left  to  wake  Rosalind  and  complete  the 
charm.  Old  Jglma  is  clear  out  of  patience  with 
him  for  his  cowardly  delay.  She  finally  gets  him 
to  the  place  where  he  is  to  say:  "Wake,  lady, 
wake  to  be  all  mine!"  This  is  to  be  repeated 
three  times.  Grogermere  says  it  once,  when  the 
blows  of  an  axe  are  heard.  Jglma  lets  out  a  wild 
scream.  They  have  begun  to  chop  down  her 
tree!  In  vain  she  implores  the  powers  of  evil  to 
help  her.  The  blows  strike  deeper  into  the  oak, 
and  each  blow  strikes  into  the  witch's  heart.  At 
last  they  have  cut  far  into  the  tree  and  it  is  ready 
to  fall.    Jglma  sees  her  finish  and  cries  out: 

"The  end  hath  come!    The  end!    I  die!— I  die! 
Ha!  ha!    Ye  heavens,  split  with  my  last  cry! 
Ha—!    Ha—!    Ha—!" 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  237 

She  rushes  off,  screaming  wildly.  There  is  a 
crash.  The  fire  beneath  the  caldron  goes  out. 
The  cave  is  in  complete  darkness.  Crafton  and 
Grogermere  flee  from  it.  Without  is  the  sound  of 
fighting.  Then  silence.  And  then  about  the 
head  of  the  sleeping  Rosalind  appears  a  halo 
of  light.  Rupert,  sword  in  hand,  rushes  in.  He 
finds  Rosalinda  but  he  cannot  move  her  from  the 
spot  where  she  lies.  He  takes  from  his  leather 
pouch  a  flask  of  holy  water.  This  was  given  him 
by  Friar  Joseph  to  use  in  breaking  up  any  charms 
that  might  be  of  bother  in  the  cave.  Rupert  drops 
three  drops  into  the  caldron.  There  is  an  explo- 
sion. "Ha!"  cries  Rupert,  "The  power  of  that 
vile  hatchery  of  wickedness  is  o'er."  Then  he 
sprinkles  the  remaining  drops  about  Rosalind, 
That  breaks  the  charm,  and  she  awakes  to  find 
herself  in  Ruperfs  arms. 

The  last  scene,  the  eighth,  is  a  forest  glade, 
where  Rosalind  and  Rupert  hold  court.  Rosalind 
is  herself  once  more,  clad  in  garments  that  become 
the  wife  of  Rupert.  Word  is  brought  to  them  of 
the  prisoners.  Lord  Crafton  and  Lord  Grogermere, 
by  John  of  Ardmore,  one  of  Ruperfs  men.     Craf- 


238  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

ton,  so  John  says,  is  brave,  but  Grogermere  is  the 
biggest  coward  on  record. 

Rosalind  begs  Rupert  to  be  kind  to  her  father, 
and  he  tells  her  that  the  prisoners  are  hers  to  do 
with  as  she  pleases.  So  John  is  sent  to  bring  the 
two  lords  in  before  them,  and  while  they  are  wait- 
ing for  him  to  come  back  they  decide  to  send 
both  Crafton  and  Grogermere  back  to  their  homes. 

But  John  does  not  return.  Friar  Joseph  com- 
ing in  his  place.  The  worthy  friar  has  a  long 
story  to  tell.  He  says  Lord  Crafton  bid  him  come 
to  him,  and  when  he  entered  the  place  where  the 
prisoners  were  confined  he  found  Crafton  stretched 
on  his  cot,  with  his  face  strangely  drawn.  Then 
to  the  friar  Lord  Crafton  told  his  tale.  He  was 
not  Rosalindas  father,  but  a  cousin  of  her  father. 
While  yet  she  was  a  babe,  he  had  raided  her 
father's  castle,  burned  it,  and  put  all  to  the  sword 
but  herself.  He  took  her  to  his  own  castle  and 
brought  her  up  as  his  daughter.  "But,''  says 
Friar  Joseph,  "he  repented  him  of  his  cruelty, 
and  as  death  stole  the  breath  from  out  him " 

"Death!"  says  Rosalind.    "Say  ye  death?'' 

"Death,  my  child,"  says  the  friar,   "for  he 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  239 

wished  it,  and  a  phial  of  poison  which  he  had 
with  him  brought  painless  death."  Then  Friar 
Joseph  goes  on  to  tell  how  Crafton  begged  that 
Rosalind  forgive  him,  and  left  to  her  all  that  he 
died  possessed  of. 

At  last,  to  make  all  happy  for  Rupert  and  Rosa- 
lind, a  messenger  comes  from  the  king,  granting 
Rupert  forgiveness  and  restoring  him  to  his  lands. 

And  then  the  play  ends.  Rupert  says: 

"  But  ever  here,  within  these  forest  glades, 
Will  be  my  best-loved  seat.   Here  shall  I  bide, 
And  here  erect  a  castle  for  my  bride. 
Now  Heaven  be  thanked  that  sees  this  happy 

day. 
When  justice,  love,  and  mercy  end  our  play!  " 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

Sunday,  July  9. 

It  has  been  a  long  time  since  I  have  written  in 
my  Barnstormer  record.  But  now  that  "Rupert 
the  Red  Ranger"  is  over,  I  have  very  little  to 
do;  in  fact,  I  have  more  time  than  anything  else. 

I  am  afraid  "Rupert"  will  be  our  last  show 
this  summer.  Here  I  had  looked  forward  to  the 
Barnstormers  giving  five  or  six  shows  anyway,  and 
now — ^now  it  seems  like  the  whole  thing  is  over. 
That  is  what  brought  me  back  to  this  record,  I 
guess;  I  wanted  to  tell  somebody  about  how  badly 
I  felt,  and  I  didn't  have  any  one  to  tell;  so  writ- 
ing my  misery  down  on  paper  seemed  the  only 
way. 

It's  like  this.  Larry  has  gone  to  work  as  a 
water  boy  down  at  Stephen's  quarry.  He  makes 
five  dollars  a  week,  which  is  lots  of  money,  and 
he  doesn't  really  have  to  work  so  very  hard. 
John  and  Hal  have  gone  to  spend  the  rest  of  va- 
cation with  an  aunt  who  is  an  old  maid  and  lives 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  241 

alone.  She  wrote  to  their  mother,  and  wanted 
some  of  the  children  for  the  summer,  and  since 
Hal  and  John  were  the  only  ones  old  enough  to 
send  who  weren't  too  busy  to  go,  why,  off  they 
went  last  Tuesday.  They  did  get  to  stay  over 
until  after  we  had  given  "Rupert"  but  they  had 
to  beg  hard  for  that. 

So  here  I  am — the  only  Barnstormer  left!  Of 
course,  Herbert  is  still  here,  but  he  doesn't  count 
hardly,  for  he  is  so  much  younger  and  wasn't 
one  of  the  original  Barnstormers.  The  Barnville 
is  the  lonesomest  place  I  ever  saw;  just  like  a 
house  where  folks  have  died  and  you  are  the 
only  one  left.  I  feel  'most  like  there  were 
ghosts  about  as  I  sit  here  at  our  "dramatic  desk," 
writing  away  in  my  record.  I  can  hear  old  Ber- 
nardo rumbling  out  his  lines,  and  Ernest  saying 
high  and  noble  speeches,  and  Selim  telling  Zara 
she  may  have  the  keys  to  the  donjon.  And  then 
there  is  the  ill-fated  Adelbert,  d3dng  of  the  poisoned 
wine,  and  Huon,  his  slayer,  and  old  Hilda,  with 
her  high,  cracked  voice.  And  last  of  all — Rupert 
the  Red  Ranger,  and  Lord  Crafton,  and  Lord  Grog- 
ermere,  and  Jglma,  and  Friar  Joseph.    Woo-0-0! 


242  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

It's  a  spooky  place!  But  I  like  those  ghosts — 
they  are  friendly  ghosts  of  parts  we  all  Uked  and 
knew  'most  as  if  they  were  real  people. 

Before  I  go  any  further,  I  must  tell  about 
"Rupert  the  Red  Ranger"  and  what  a  great 
success  it  was.  We  gave  it  last  Monday  night. 
It  was  the  biggest,  best  play  yet — even  if  I  did 
help  write  it — ^and  it  made  the  biggest  hit.  That 
is  something  to  remember,  if  "Rupert"  is  to  be 
our  last  play. 

We  made  an  outdoor  theatre  which  was  better 
than  we  had  hoped,  and  which  people  Uked  ever 
so  much,  too.  We  certainly  did  fix  it  up  in 
style.  It  looked  "classy,"  as  John  said,  and  I 
think  that  is  the  word  to  describe  it. 

We  found  that  we  couldn't  move  the  seats 
down  from  up-stairs  without  quite  wrecking  the 
Bamville,  so  we  rented  fifty  of  those  folding  chairs 
they  use  at  funerals.  Mr.  Bury,  the  undertaker, 
let  us  have  them,  because  no  one  was  dead,  and 
he  didn't  need  them  that  day.  They  cost  us  two 
dollars;  and  because  of  that  we  had  to  charge 
ten  cents  admission  to  the  show.  But  people 
paid  it,  for  they  like  our  shows  so  well  they 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  243 

don't  grumble  about  the  price.  We  had  a  string 
of  Jap  lanterns  hung  outside  to  give  Ught  enough 
for  the  audience  to  see  the  way  to  their  seats. 
The  yard  in  front  of  the  carriage  house  slopes 
down  just  enough  to  make  each  row  of  seats  a 
little  higher  than  the  one  in  front  of  it,  like  seats 
are  in  a  theatre.  We  put  sawdust  on  the  ground 
to  make  it  look  neat  and  clean. 

Making  a  stage  in  the  carriage  house  wasn't 
such  a  great  deal  of  work.  We  moved  down  the 
curtain,  the  back  drop,  the  wings,  and  the  green 
room  scene.  For  the  forest  settings  we  used  green 
branches,  just  as  we  had  always  done  before. 

Jglma's  cave  was  about  the  only  new  setting 
for  the  play.  But  that  was  a  corker,  all  right! 
It  was  lots  of  work  to  get  fixed,  but  we  didn't 
mind  that.  Hal  thought  of  how  we  could  make 
the  setting,  and  as  soon  as  he  told  us  of  his  plan 
we  knew  it  was  exactly  the  thing  to  do. 

Jglma^s  cave  is  different  from  the  one  we  had 
in  "Bianca,"  for  that  was  just  a  cave  entrance, 
while  this  was  supposed  to  be  the  whole  inside  of 
the  cave.  We  wanted  it  to  look  Hke  a  rocky 
cavern — like  the  Httle  cave  on  the  hillside  at 


244  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Leonard's  Springs  picnic  grounds.  We  wanted  it 
low  around  the  sides  and  high  in  the  middle,  with 
bumpy,  irregular  places,  and  those  stalactite  things 
hanging  down.  But  how  could  we  do  it?  That 
was  a  big  question.    And  Hal  found  the  way. 

He  and  John  have  a  tent  ten  by  ten  feet  that 
they  used  to  have  for  camping.  It  leaks  now,  so 
it  isn't  much  good  for  camping  trips  any  more. 
But  the  idea  came  to  Hal  that  it  would  be  just 
the  thing  to  use  for  a  cave,  and  when  he  told  us 
of  his  plan,  we  saw  it  was  a  first-rate  one,  and 
we  all  fell  for  it  on  the  double-quick. 

What  we  did  was  to  fasten  a  rope  to  the  cen- 
tre of  the  top,  and  several  other  ropes  to  other 
parts  of  the  roof  of  the  thing.  These  we  tied  to 
the  beams  above,  and  they  held  it  up,  but  let  it 
hang  unevenly,  like  the  roof  of  a  cave.  The  sides, 
all  but  the  front  one,  were  fastened  down  here 
and  there  to  make  them  stay.  When  we  weren't 
using  the  setting,  we  loosened  the  sides  and  laid 
the  whole  tent  up  over  a  beam  out  of  the  way. 
But  when  it  was  all  fastened  down,  and  the  floor 
was  covered  with  the  old  tarpaulin,  made  bumpy 
by  things  stuffed  under  it;  and  when  the  caldron, 


'JGLMA  S"    CAVE    WAS    ABOUT    THE    ONLY    NEW    SETTING    FOR 
THE  PLAY.      IT    WAS    LOTS    OF   WORK    TO    GET    FIXED,   BUT 

WE  didn't  mind  that 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  245 

with  its  red  fire,  was  in  the  centre  of  the  stage, 
the  effect  was  great.  The  only  light  came  from 
that  red  fire  under  the  caldron,  and  from  the  spot- 
light, which  had  a  red  glass  sHde  over  it  and  was 
fixed  on  the  caldron  itself.  The  scene  was  the 
best  we  have  had  yet. 

We  acted  our  parts  better  in  "Rupert"  than 
we  have  done  in  the  other  plays.  Now  that  we 
have  had  so  much  experience,  we  are  getting  to 
be  'most  professional  actors.  And  then,  too,  we 
knew  it  was  our  last  play  for  a  long  time — maybe 
forever! — and  we  went  into  it  for  all  we  were 
worth. 

That  scene  where  Jglma^s  power  is  broken — 
dad  says  it  is  the  "cHmax"  of  the  play — ^was  our 
high-water  mark.  John  as  Jglma  was  great.  He 
fairly  scared  me  when  the  first  blow  of  the  axe 
soimded  and  he  let  out  that  awful  screech.  When 
he  finally  rushed  off  screaming,  and  the  tree  fell, 
it  was  the  most  thrilling  thing  you  could  imagine. 
Herbert  had  to  manage  all  those  noises,  but  he 
certainly  did  do  them  as  they  should  have  been 
done.  For  the  axe  blows  he  chopped  at  a  big 
piece  of  wood,  and  when  the  tree  was  supposed 


246  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

to  fall  he  threw  ofif  a  lot  of  heavy  things  from 
the  top  of  an  old  box  where  oats  used  to  be  kept. 
Then,  while  John  was  out  hurriedly  changing  from 
Jglma  to  Ruperty  the  two  of  them  made  all  sorts 
of  unearthly  noises.  When  Hal  and  Larry  joined 
them  the  noises  grew  worse,  and  then  came  quiet 
as  the  spot-light  fell  on  Rosalind^  lying  in  a  death- 
like sleep,  while  Rupert  gazed  spellboimd  at  her 
from  the  entrance  to  the  cave. 

I  don't  need  to  say  much  about  the  other  scenes, 
though  they  certainly  did  please  people,  for  they 
all  worked  out  well.  Mrs.  MacAnnaly  was  at 
the  play,  and  she  just  bragged  on  us. 

And  now  it  is  all  over!  I  can't  believe  it  as  I 
sit  here  at  the  desk  where  Hal  and  I  worked  on 
"Rupert."  The  stage  of  the  Bamville  is  all  j&xed 
up  again,  and  I  have  swept  it  and  made  it  look 
so  nice.  It  seems  as  though  Hal  and  John  and 
Larry  should  be  coming  up  the  stairs  to  a  re- 
hearsal— and  here  Hal  and  John  are  clear  off  in  a 
little  town  in  New  York  and  Larry  is  down  at 
the  quarry  carrying  water.    I  wish  I  had  a  job! 

I've  got  it!  I  will  have!  I'll  write  some  plays 
for  us  to  give  when  Hal  and  John  come  back 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  247 

home  and  Larry's  job  is  through.  1*11  start  at 
once  and  write  a  whole  book  of  plays  just  like 
the  "Comic  Tragedies."  I  know  how  now.  And 
then  the  time  will  go  so  quickly  that  before  I 
know  it  we  will  be  back  in  school  again,  and  we 
can  give  plays — ^my  plays! — all  winter.  Why 
didn't  I  think  of  it  before?  But  I'll  not  lose  any 
time.     I'm  in  for  beginning  right  off! 

What  will  I  call  them — ?  Let  me  see.  Ah — 
"Barnstorming  Tragedies!"    Hurrah! 

Here  goes! 

The  End 


RUPERT  THE  RED  RANGER 
A  BARNSTORMING  TRAGEDY 

BY 
"BOB" 


CHARACTERS 

Rupert  the  Red  Ranger,  an  otUlaw, 

Lord  Crapton  Vere  de  Vere. 

Lord  Grogermere,  of  Grogermere  Hall, 

Friar  Joseph,  a  hermit. 

John  of  Ardmore,  one  of  Ruperfs  men. 

Lady  Rosalind  Vere  de  Vere,  Lord  Grafton's  daughter. 

Jglma,  a  druid  priestess  and  witch. 

A  messenger  from  the  King. 


RUPERT  THE  RED  RANGER 

Scene  I 
A  garden. 

When  the  curtain  rises,  Rosalind  is  discovered 
seated  on  a  rustic  bench, 

Rosalind.  Oh,  why  does  he  not  come?  I  grow 
impatient  waiting  here.  Each  moment  without 
him  seems  an  age,  and  when  we  are  together  time 
flies  so  I  know  not  where  it  goes.  Oh,  Rupert, 
Rupert!  How  I  love  thee!  And  yet  thou  art 
an  outlaw!  But  if  an  outlaw,  still  a  noble  man, 
brave,  true,  and  generous,  giving  thy  booty  to  the 
worthy  poor  and  aiding  all  those  who  suffer  and 
are  in  distress.  Come,  dear  Rupert,  come!  The 
moments  are  like  hours.  Hist!  Some  one  ap- 
proaches!   Perhaps  'tis  he! 

Enter  Rupert  disguised  as  a  peddler, 

Rupert.  Ha,  fairest  lady,  are  ye  not  she  whom 

men  call  Lady  Rosalind  Vere  de  Vere? 

251 


252  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Rosalind.  The  same,  sir.    And  what  would  ye? 

Rupert.  [Opening  his  pack]  Here,  my  sweet 
lady,  are  gems  and  silks,  perfumes  and  spices — 
luxuries  quite  fit  for  one  so  fair  as  thou.  Will  ye 
not  look,  my  lady? 

Rosalind.  Ah,  sir,  I  have  no  desire  for  such 
bawbles.  Fain  would  I  be  in  the  sweet  greenwood, 
where  jewels  and  silks  are  of  but  Httle  use  and 
nature  herself  furnishes  the  perfumes.  My  heart, 
good  peddler,  is  set  on  other  things. 

Rupert.  Ah,  lady,  I  have  guessed  it!  You  are 
in  love. 

Rosalind.  How  knew  ye  that,  my  man?  But 
sooth,  ye  speak  true.  Though  why  I  should  admit 
it  to  you  is  beyond  me. 

Rupert.  Your  very  look  doth  tell  you  are  in 
love.  And  is  he  brave  and  noble — ^fitting  the  de- 
votion of  one  so  fair  and  true  as  thou? 

Rosalind.  Ah,  stranger,  he  is  the  noblest  man 
who  ever  lived.  He  is  brave,  he  is  strong,  he  is 
true.  We  love  each  other  very  much.  Ah,  that 
I  might  only  see  him  now! 

Rupert.  [Removing  disguise]  Look,  dearest  lady, 
here  he  stands  before  thee! 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  253 

Rosalind.  Rupert!  Ah,  thou  hast  given  me 
such  a  fright!  I  thought  thou  wouldst  never 
come.  But  why  this  strange  disguise?  Would 
you  test  my  love  by  your  fooHsh  questions? 

Rupert.  Nay,  lady,  nay.  I  doubt  not  thy 
love  and  devotion.  But  a  man  with  a  price  upon 
his  head  may  not  come  and  go  as  he  Hst.  Tis 
a  time  of  danger  for  me.  Were  I  to  come  hither 
known  to  all  men  as  Rupert  the  Red  Ranger  by 
my  scarlet  suit,  my  Hfe  would  not  be  worth  a 
battered  farthing  and  our  love  might  all  too  soon 
be  brought  to  a  bitter  end.  Ere  long  we  must  fly 
together,  dearest  Rosalind,  and  in  our  forest  glades 
find  happiness  and  safety.  Father  Joseph,  the 
hermit,  will  wed  us,  and  once  deep  in  the  track- 
less forest,  we  will  forget  the  trials  that  have  beset 
our  love  and  Hve  but  for  each  other. 

Rosalind.  Andmay  that  time  soon  come!  My 
father  grows  more  impatient  every  day  to  bring 
about  my  marriage  with  old  Lord  Grogermere. 
My  father  is  in  great  need  of  money,  and  Lord 
Grogermere  hath  offered  a  goodly  sum  to  buy  me 
for  his  wife. 

Rupert.  The    wretches!     And    your    father 


254  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

would  wed  you  to  that  ancient  coward  when 
he  knows  that  your  love  is  another^s? 

Rosalind.  Blame  him  not.  He  is  in  great 
need.  But  though  I  have  always  obeyed  him,  in 
this  must  I  disobey.     I  will  not  be  sold. 

Rupert.  You  do  no  wrong  in  disobeying,  dear- 
est Rosalind.  Your  love  is  your  own  to  bestow. 
It  cannot  be  bought  and  sold.  It  is  a  sacred 
thing,  and  I  to  whom  it  hath  been  given  shall 
cherish  it  as  a  gift  of  Heaven. 

Rosalind.  And  when,  dear  Rupert,  shall  we 
take  our  flight  together? 

Rupert.  Soon,  dear  Rosalind.  A  few  days,  per- 
haps. I  must  first  make  ready  a  place  for  my  bride. 

Rosalind.  Dost  thou  not  know  that  what 
serves  thee  would  serve  me?  That  whatever 
shelter  your  greenwood  offers,  I  would  ask  noth- 
ing better? 

Rupert.  Only  a  few  days 

Rosalind.  But  I  am  afraid,  Rupert.  My  fa- 
ther will  stop  at  nothing  to  bring  about  this  wed- 
ding with  Lord  Grogermere.  Should  he  decide 
to  force  me  into  it  some  time  when  you  were  far 
distant 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  255 

Rupert.  Fear  not,  dear  one,  you  shall  never 
be  another's. 

Lord  Crafton  parts  hushes  and  observes  pair. 

Rosalind.  But  I  do  fear,  dear  Rupert.  The 
thought  that  I  should  lose  you  is  torture.  The 
thought  that  I  might  be  another's 

Crafton.  [Coming  forward]  Odd's  hfe!  What 
have  we  here!  Wretch,  you  shall  hang  for  this! 
Get  thee  into  the  castle,  girl,  and  leave  me  to 
settle  with  this  villain. 

Rupert  draws  sword. 

Rosalind.  I  will  not  go! 

Crafton.  What?  Thou  wouldst  defy  me?  An- 
other song  wilt  thou  sing  when  this  wretch's  body 
swings  from  the  gibbet  where  the  bodies  of  all 
such  villains  belong. 

Rupert.    Yes,  when,  my  lord! 

Crafton.  Impudent  villain!  [Draws  sword] 
Hence,  out  of  my  garden.  What  ho!  Garford, 
William,  John — ^where  are  the  knaves! 

Rupert.  [Disarms  him]  Another  word  and  ye 
die! 

Crafton.  [Glares  at  him  in  baffled  rage]  B-r-r- 
r-r-r! 


256  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Rupert.  [Embraces  Rosalind]  Fear  not,  dear 
lady.  Should  ye  need  me,  send  word  by  some 
trusted  messenger.    Adieu,  dearest  love. 

Rosalind.  Farewell!  And  if  I  need  thee  thou 
wilt  come? 

Rupert.   Though    a    thousand   deaths   stood 
between!    Adieu — I  go,  but  soon  we  will  meet 
again! 

Exit  Rupert. 

Crafton.  B-r-r-r-r-r!  I  shall  put  an  end  to 
this,  girl!  To  hold  secret  meetings  with  an  outr 
law!  It  is  unthinkable!  But  I  shall  put  an  end 
to  it!    To-morrow  you  wed  Lord  Grogermere! 

Rosalind.  Oh,  father! — ^To-morrow? 

Crafton.  Yes,  to-morrow!  I  am  weary  of  this 
nonsense.  Grogermere  can  give  you  all  that  heart 
could  desire — and  at  the  same  time  repair  my 
shattered  fortunes.     Come,  why  do  you  object? 

Rosalind.  Oh,  father,  have  pity  on  me!  I  do 
not  love  him. 

Crafton.  Love!  Bah!  This  outlaw  again! 
But  come!  Into  the  castle  with  you,  and  pre- 
pare for  the  wedding.  No  tears — ^you  must  be 
beautiful! 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  257 

Rosalind.  Oh,  Rupert,  Rupert!    My  Red  Ran- 
ger! 
Come,  save  me  from  this  dreaded  danger! 

Curtain, 

Scene  II 

Rosalind's  chamber.    Balcony  at  rear. 

Rosalind.  My  wedding  day!  It  should  be  a 
day  of  gladness,  but  I  find  it  one  of  sorrow.  Oh, 
that  Rupert  knew!  I  sent  word  to  him,  but  I 
fear  me  the  messenger  hath  failed  to  reach  him. 
But  if  he  knows  of  my  present  peril,  he  will  not 
fail  to  rescue  me  from  it,  though  a  thousand  Lord 
Grogermeres  and  Craftons  oppose  him. 

An  arrow,  to  which  is  tied  a  silken  thread,  is 
shot  into  the  room  through  the  window 
opening  on  rear  balcony. 
Rosalind.  [Starting  up]  What  is  this?    Ah,  can 
it  be  from  him?  [Picks  up  arrow]  A  silken  thread 
is  fastened  to  it,  and  here  upon  the  head  a  note 
is  tied!    'Tis  from  Rupert!    I  am  saved. 
Opens  note  and  reads. 


258  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Dear  Lady: 

Draw  the  silken  thread  in  through  your  window. 
To  it  is  fastened  a  rope.  Then  draw  up  the  rope 
till  you  have  secured  a  package  and  a  rope  ladder 
which  are  fastened  to  the  end  of  it.  In  the  pack- 
age is  a  disguise  for  you.  Don  it  and  escape  by 
the  rope  ladder.  I  wait  below  in  the  disguise  of 
a  beggar,  which  I  have  donned  over  my  suit  of 
red.    Make  haste. 

Ever  your 

Rupert. 

Rosalind.  Heaven  hath  heard  my  prayers  and 
I  am  saved!  Now  let  me  make  haste,  for  soon 
my  father  and  that  cruel  man  who  would  be  my 
husband  will  knock  on  the  door  and  call  me  forth 
to  my  wedding.  But  they  shall  knock  in  vain! 
For  she  whom  they  would  lead  forth  to  a  fate 
worse  than  death  will  be  with  the  man  of  her 
choice  in  the  merry  greenwood! 

She  draws  up  the  silken  cord,  the  rope,  and 
secures  the  package  and  ladder, 

Rosalind.  And  now  for  my  disguise!  [Opens 
package,  A  boy^s  suit  of  scarlet  is  disclosed]  Dis- 
guise, indeed!  But  what  care  I?  If  that  will 
bring  me  safely  to  my  Rupert,  then  shall  I  fling 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  259 

false  modesty  away,  for  I  must  escape  this  living 
death  that  waits  me,  and  gain  the  love  that  is  my 
own  true  right. 

A  knock  is  heard. 

Rosalind.  They  come!  Oh,  Heaven  shield  me! 
Let  not  all  be  lost  when  sweet  success  is  quite 
within  my  grasp !  But  all  will  not  be  lost!  I  will 
not  yield!  Yet  will  I  find  a  way  to  win  my  end 
and  join  Rupert  there  at  the  base  of  the  castle 
wall! 

The  knock  is  heard  again, 

Rosalind.  Enter,  my  lords. 

Lord  Crafton  and  Lord  Grogermere 
enter, 

Grogermere.  Good  morrow,  sweet  lady. 

Rosalind.  Greetings,  my  lord. 

Grafton.  Not  ready  yet,  girl? 

Rosalind.  Have  patience,  father.  My  tiring- 
woman  hath  not  yet  finished  the  wedding  gown. 
Remember,  this,  my  wedding,  came  most  unex- 
pectedly upon  us,  and  to  make  fit  preparation  to 
become  the  bride  of  one  so  noble,  so  great,  and  so 
much  to  be  honored  as  Lord  Grogermere  requires 
time. 


26o  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Bows  to  Lord  Grogermere,  who  is  much 
flattered. 

Grogermere.  No  hurry,  sweet  child.  I  have 
waited  long,  and  a  few  minutes  more  or  less,  now, 
do  not  matter. 

Rosalind.  Then,  my  lords,  excuse  me.  I  will 
to  my  tiring-woman  and  make  haste  to  prepare 
myself  for  the  wedding. 

She  exits,  having  secured  the  scarlet  suit 
unseen, 

Grafton.  As  to  the  sum  we  named,  my  lord, 
I  find  it  not  sufficient  for  my  needs.  Three  thou- 
sand ducats  is  the  price  of  thy  bride. 

Grogermere.  Three  thousand  ducats! 

Grafton.  Not  one  penny  less! 

Grogermere.  You  rob  me,  sir! 

Grafton.  Is  not  the  lady  worth  three  thousand 
ducats?    She  is  fair. 

Grogermere.  Aye,  but  there  are  other  maids 
as  fair. 

Grafton.  But  not  well  bom  as  she.  Think 
twice,  my  lord,  before  you  dare  refuse.  Remem- 
ber, the  lady  is  a  noble  daughter  of  the  lords  of 
Vere  de  Vere! 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  261 

Grogermere.  Three  thousand  ducats! 

Grafton.  Gome,  sign  me  the  paper — she  is 
yours.  Refuse,  and  I  will  hold  her  for  a  higher 
price. 

Grogeraiere.  I  yield.  Though  know  that  once 
she  is  my  wife,  all  claim  you  have  upon  her  must 
quite  cease.  And  should  I  wish  to  slay  her  with 
my  sword,  that  is  my  right! 

Grafton.  Quite  so,  my  lord!  I  yield  her  to 
your  keeping.  But  the  price — three  thousand 
ducats.    Here  is  the  paper — sign. 

They  sit  at  table  and  Grogermere  signs 
paper. 

Grogermere.  There!  Now  yield  me  up  my 
bride. 

Rosalind.  [From  without]  A  moment,  sweet, 
my  lords!  My  father,  pray  go  to  the  warden, 
and  bid  him  bring  me  here  my  jewels  which  are 
locked  safe  in  the  tower. 

Grafton.  I  go,  dear  RosaHnd.    Make  haste,  I 
beg,  and  be  quite  ready  when  I  do  return.    Await 
me  here.  Lord  Grogermere. 
Exit  Grafton. 
Rosalind,  hearing  a  length  of  rope  looped  at 


262  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

the  end,  steals  in  from  rear  wing.    She  is 
dressed  as  a  hoy  in  the  red  suit.    She  throws 
the  loop  over  Lord  Grogermere's  head, 
and  before  he  is  aware  of  what  has  hap- 
pened, has  tied  him  to  the  chair. 
Grogermere.  Thieves,   murder,   help!    What 
ho!    Heigh!    What  is  this?    Who  art  thou  with 
an  angel's  lovely  face  and  the  demeanor  of  a  devil 
red? 
Rosalind.  Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha!    Sweet  bridegroom, 
stay! 
I  would  have  been  thy  bride  this  very  day! 
But  other  plans  prevent  our  wedding,  so 
I  really  fear  that  I  will  have  to  go! 
Adieu!    And  when  we  hap  to  meet  again, 
I  hope  you'll  suffer  less  chagrin  and  pain! 
She  disappears  over  the  balcony, 
Grogermere.  Help!    Help!    I  say  I'm  robbed! 
Help,  thieves!    Murder!    Fire!    Lady  Rosalind 
hath  escaped!    Three  thousand  ducats!    My  duc- 
ats!   My    bride!    What    ho!    You    villains    of 
Lord  Grafton!    Come!    Lord  Grogermere  calls! 
Come!    Save  me!    Save  my  bride!    Save  my  duc- 
ats!   Help!    Help! 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  263 

Enter  Crafton. 

Crafton.  Ha!  What  is  this?  Why  all  this 
outcry?    What's  amiss?    What — tied? 

Grogermere.  The  bird  hath  flown.  My  bride 
is  gone! 

Crafton.  Ha!  Red  Rupert  is  at  the  bottom 
of  this!  But  come.  [Unties  hirri]  Come!  We  will 
have  revenge!  We'll  gather  all  my  men  and 
search  the  forest  till  we  find  thy  bride  and  that 
red  villain  who  hath  led  her  oJ0F.  And  not  alone 
on  might  of  men  will  we  lean,  but  on  the  power- 
ful, deep,  unknown,  unseen.  For  Jglma,  the 
druid  witch  and  priestess  shall  aid  us  with  her 
spells.    Come!    Let  us  seek  Revenge! 

Grogermere.  Revenge! 

Crafton.  Re\^nge! 

Curtain, 

Scene  III 
Friar  Joseph's  cell. 

The  Friar  at  prayers  before  his  altar,    A  knock  is 
heard. 

Friar.  Enter,  if  ye  come  in  peace.     And  if  ye 


264  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

come  in  war,  know  that  here  dwells  only  a  poor 
man  of  God,  without  treasure  or  wealth,  save  that 
which  he  hath  laid  up  in  heaven. 

Rupert.  [Without]  Fear  not,  worthy  father. 
'Tis  I — Rupert  the  Red  Ranger,  and  I  bring  my 
bride  thither  for  you  to  make  us  one. 

Friar.  My  blessings  on  thee.  Enter!  [They 
come  in]  What? — Methought  thou  saidst  a  bride, 
and  here  I  see  only  a  pretty  boy — such  a  page, 
truly,  as  well  might  serve  a  queen. 

Rosalind.  Oh,  father,  forgive  me,  but  'tis  I  who 
am  the  bride.  To  escape  my  cruel  father  I  fled 
thus  disguised.  Here  soon  I  hope  to  don  my 
woman's  garments,  and  as  my  dear  Rupert's  wife 
make  a  home  in  these  forest  glades.  But  for  the 
present  you  must  take  me  as  I  am. 

Friar.  Welcome,  my  child,  and  may  Heaven 
bless  thee  for  thy  courage  that  hath  led  thee  to 
such  brave  deeds  for  the  man  thou  lovest. 

Rupert.  And  now,  father,  we  would  have  thee 
wed  us. 

Friar.  Even  so,  my  children.  Kneel  thou  be- 
fore me.     [He  stands  by  altar.     They  kneel.] 

Do  thou,  Rupert,  take  this  maid  to  be  thy 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  265 

wedded  wife,  to  watch  over  and  guard,  to  love 
and  honor,  to  care  for  in  health  and  illness,  in 
happiness  and  sorrow,  and  to  cherish  as  thine  own 
till  death  do  you  part? 

Rupert.  I  do. 

Friar.  And  thou,  Rosalind,  do  thou  take  this 
man  to  be  thy  wedded  husband,  to  honor,  love, 
and  obey  till  death  do  you  part? 

Rosalind.  I  do. 

Rupert.  With  this  ring  I  thee  wed. 
Puts  it  on  her  finger. 

Friar.  What  God  hath  joined,  let  not  man  put 
asunder.    I  pronounce  thee  man  and  wife. 

Rise,  children,  and  may  happiness  and  peace 
attend  thee  in  thy  path  through  life.  The  bless- 
ings of  an  old  man  upon  thee. 

Rupert.  Thank  thee,  father. 

Rosalind.  The  rewards  of  Heaven  be  thine!* 

Rupert.  Now  we  must  go  to  seek  our  rustic 
shelter,  soon,  I  hope,  to  be  replaced  by  a  home 
more  worthy  of  my  bride.  Fare  thee  well,  and 
my  heart's  deepest  thanks  for  what  thou  hast 
done  for  us. 

Rosalind.  Farewell,  father. 


266  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Friar.  Farewell,  my  children.  My  prayers  and 
blessings  go  with  thee. 

Rupert  and  Rosalind  exit.    Friar  goes  to 
altar ^  where  he  kneels. 

Curtain, 

Scene  IV 
A  wood. 
Enter  Rupert  and  Rosalind. 

Rupert.  And  now  that  we  are  safe  in  my  own 
greenwood,  and  Friar  Joseph  hath  made  us  one, 
we  need  no  longer  fear.  But  woe  to  thy  father 
and  old  Lord  Grogermere  should  they  seek  to  fol- 
low us  here. 

Rosalind.  But,  dear  Rupert,  remember.  Lord 
Crafton  is  my  father.  Though  he  hath  been  un- 
naturally cruel,  still  do  I  keep  within  my  heart  a 
daughter's  love  and  respect.  Remember,  should 
he  fall  into  our  hands,  we  must  not  use  him  too 
unkindly. 

Rupert.  Yes,  dear  one.  But  should  he  seek  to 
take  thee  from  me,  my  heart  will  know  no  mercy. 
Now  await  me  here  while  I  go  to  yonder  hilltop 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  267 

to  light  the  signal-fire  that  will  let  my  men  know 
we  are  within  the  forest. 

Rosalind.  Oh,  Rupert,  I  am  afraid!  Should 
anything  happen  to  take  thee  from  me — or  me 
from  thee ! 

Rupert.  Fear  not,  dear  one.  Blow  thrice  upon 
this  pipe  should  danger  threaten,  and  I  will  hasten 
to  thy  aid.     Adieu,  my  love. 

Rosalind.  Adieu,  dear  one,  and  may  you  come 
soon  back  to  me. 

Exit  Rupert. 

Rosalind.  Ah,  I  am  weary,  for  we  have  come 

so  far.     I  will  couch  me  here  upon  this  leafy  bed, 

and  rest  my  weary  limbs  till  Rupert  comes.     And 

if,  perchance,  a  gentle  slumber  steals  my  senses, 

then  in  my  dreams  I'll  see  dear  Rupert's  noble 

face.    Oh,  I  am  weary!    Heaven  guard  me  well. 

Lies  down  at  side.    She  is  partly  hidden. 

Soft  music.    Crafton  and  Grogermere 

steal  in. 

Grogermere.  Sh — !  Methought  I  heard  a 
noise!  Ugh!  I  am  afraid!  Since  we  did  lose 
our  guard  I  shudder  when  the  wind  sighs  through 
the  trees. 


268     •        THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Crafton.  Brace  up!  Brace  up!  This  is  no 
time  for  cowards!  We  deal  with  red-clad  Rupert 
and  his  band.  'Tis  said  they  bum  their  captives 
at  the  stake,  like  to  wild  Indians  in  the  far  new 
world. 

Grogermere.  I — I — I — I  well  b-b-believe  they 
may!  Oh,  that  I  ne'er  had  left  the  castle  gates! 
Now  Heaven  keep  us  from  their  prowling  bands, 
and  bring  me  safe  again  to  Grogermere  Hall! 

Crafton.  I  doubt  if  ever  you  do  see  its  walls 
again. 

Grogermere.  Oh — oh — s-s-say  not  so.  I  trem- 
ble like  a  leaf.  [He  lets  out  a  yell, 

Crafton.  Ha!    Silence,  fool! 

Grogermere.  I  thought  I  heard  a  noise. 

Crafton.  Doth  wish  to  bring  all  of  Red  Ru- 
pert's band  to  haul  us  'fore  their  chief?  Another 
sound  from  out  thy  coward  throat,  and  like  a 
menial  low  I'll  run  thee  through,  and  say  thou 
wert  killed  by  Rupert  and  his  band. 

Grogermere.  Have  mercy  pray!  I — I — I  am 
so  m-m-much  afraid  I  know  not  what  I  do! 

Crafton.  Coward!  Sit  down.  We  must  take 
counsel  here,  and  find  some  way  out  of  our  desper- 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  269 

ate  case.  Should  we  fall  into  Rupert's  hands,  our 
lives  are  worse  than  forfeit.  If  we  are  not  killed, 
he'll  make  of  us  low  menials  for  his  men  and  have 
us  serve  them  till  we  die. 

Grogermere.  You  think  he  will  not  kill  us? 

Crafton.  You,  perhaps,  he'll  torture,  since  you 
seem  so  much  afraid.  It  hath  ever  been  great 
sport  to  torture  cowards.  Me — ^well,  perchance 
my  daughter  will  save  me. 

Grogermere.  T-t-t- torture!    Ugh! 

Grafton.  One  way  remains  to  escape  the  vil- 
lain's hands.  A  league  from  here  there  is  a  hid- 
den cave  wherein  an  ancient  crone  hath  dwelt 
long  since.  Men  know  not  when  she  came  nor 
whence.  'Tis  said  she  ne'er  will  die,  but  lives 
until  some  greater  power  shall  break  her  druid 
charms.  We'll  seek  her  out,  and  get  some  power- 
ful charm,  or,  perchance,  a  demon  guide  to  lead 
us  safely  from  the  forest. 

Grogermere.  A  witch!  And  how  shall  we 
know  she  will  not  do  us  harm?  She  may  e'en 
change  us  into  demons  curst! 

Crafton.  We'll  take  our  chances.  Come,  let's 
away! 


270  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

They  start  across  stage.     Cratton  stumbles 
over  the  sleeping  Rosalind. 

Ha!    Ha! 

Grogermere.  Help! 

Craeton.  Silence,  fool!  'Tis  RosaKnd  herself! 
And  sound  asleep.     Give  me  thy  scarf. 

[Binds  her  arms. 

Rosalind.  [Awakening  Oh,  Rupert,  is  it  thou? 
[Screams]  My  father!  Grogermere!  Lost!  lam 
undone!  But  touch  me  not!  I'm  his!  I'm  his,  I 
say !  For  we  are  wed,  and  all  your  cruelty  can't 
take  me  from  him! 

Grogermere.  Ha,  ha!    We'll  see! 

Craeton.  Silence!  [Seizes  Rosalind]  Nay; 
struggle  not!    Here,  Grogermere,  lend  a  hand. 

Rosalind.  Help!    Help!  Oh,  Rupert,  help! 

Craeton.  [Stops  her  mouth]  Nay;  not  so  loud, 
my  lady,  not  so  loud !  He  cannot  hear  thee  though 
thou  shout.  We  laid  him  low  while  sweetly  thou 
didst  sleep,  and  death  alone  will  bring  him  back 
to  thee! 

Rosalind.  Oh,  say  not  so!  Cruel  man  that  thou 
art!  Dead?  Nay!  It  cannot  be.  But  if  it's 
true,  then  let  me  die!    Oh,  Rupert!    Rupert! 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  271 

Crafton.  Here,  take  her  feet!  We^U  carry  her 
to  ancient  Jglma's  cave.  He'll  search  long  ere  he 
finds  his  lady  there. 

Rosalind.  Oh,  Rupert!  Rupert!   Dead?  Nay; 
'tis  a  lie! 
Crafton.  Ha,  ha,  ha!    Revenge,  revenge! 
Grogermere.  Revenge! 
Exit  all. 

Rupert  of  stage  sings, 
Rupert.  Out  of  the  forest  I  come,  my  love, 
Out  of  the  fair  greenwood. 
And  I  love  thee,  darling  lady  fair, 
Who  art  fair  as  thou  art  good. 
[Calls]  Rosahnd!     Rosalind!    [Enters]    Rosalind! 
Where  art  thou?     Gone!     Gone!    Do  my  eyes 
deceive  me?    Nay;  there  hath  been  a  struggle. 
'Tis  her  father  and  old  Grogermere  have  done 
this  deed.  [Blows  thrice  on  pipe]  Now  come,  my 
men!    We  will  win  the  lady  back  and  punish  her 
rash  captors.     Oh,  Rosahnd!    Rosahnd! 

Curtain. 


272  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Scene  V 
Jglma's  cave,    Jglma  bending  over  a  caldron, 

Jglma.  Ha,  ha!    I  weave  a  spell  to  hold  quite 

fast 
Whoe'er  shall  underneath  its  power  be  cast. 
First,  now,  into  this  pot  of  boiHng  blood 
I  drop  a  wicked  lie  nipped  in  the  bud. 
I  let  it  boil,  and  boil,  and  boil,  and  boil, 
And  in  the  caldron  bubble,  steam,  and  moil. 
Ha,  ha!    Old  Jglma  knows  to  weave  a  charm 
Of  wicked  worth,  and  muckle  deal  of  harm! 
Now  thereunto  I  add  a  dried  bat's  eye; 
The  whiskers  of  a  buzzing  bottle  fly; 
The  wriggling  wiggles  of  a  typhoid  germ; 
The   sightless   eyes   of   an   earth-tunnelling 

worm; 
The  thousandth  leg  from  off  a  centipede; 
The  triple  essence  of  a  miser's  greed; 
The  last  Ufe  of  a  nine-Uved  black  tom-cat; 
A  hangman's  smile;  an  o'erfed  monkey's  fat; 
And  all  of  this  with  poison  rank  I  cool, 
For  deadly  poison  is  my  rigid  rule. 
Ha,  ha!    And  now  the  fire's  blaze  doth  say. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  273 

That  something  vile  and  evil  comes  this  way; 
But  all  my  charms  defend  me!    There  comes, 

too, 
A  something  innocent,  and  good,  and  true! 
Haste,  all  ye  devils !     Come  and  aid  me  quick ! 
For  goodness  breaks  my  power,  and  makes 
me  sick. 
A  knock. 
Who's  there?    'Tis  Jglma  challenges!    Be- 
ware! 
Crafton.  a  friend,  sweet  witch.    Let  us  come 
in,  I  pray. 

Jglma.  A  friend?    Ha,  ha!    I  have  no  friends, 
they  say! 

Crafton.  'Tis  one  to  whom  thou  oft  hath  sold 
thy  charms.     'Tis  Crafton,  lord  of  ancient  Crafton 
Hall.    With  me  I  bring  Lord  Grogermere  and  a 
brazen  maid  I  once  did  call  my  daughter.    Much 
do  we  need  thy  aid. 
Jglma.  Devils  help  me!    I  do  feel  afraid! 
Enter,  I  say,  but  seek  to  do  me  harm. 
And  each  I'll  wither  with  a  deadly  charm. 
Enter    Crafton    and    Grogermere    with 
Rosalind. 


274  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Rosalind.  Pray,  what  dread  place  is  this? 
Why  do  you  bring  me  here?  Heavens!  That 
vile-faced  hag!  She  makes  me  afraid.  Oh,  father 
— you  whom  I  once  loved,  and  who  once  loved  me, 
deliver  me  not  into  the  power  of  this  creature. 

Jglma.  Ha,  ha! 

Crafton.  Silence! 

Grogermere.  Indeed,  sweet  Rosalind,  I — I — I 
do  fear  her  myself.  She  hath  a  most  unlovely 
face! 

Crafton.  Silence,  fool!  Sweet  Jglma,  I  do 
come  to  see  what  thou  canst  do  to  break  my 
daughter's  will.  She  hath  eloped  with  Rupert 
the  Red  Ranger,  and  swears  that  they  are  wed. 
I  told  her  we  had  slain  him,  but  as  we  left  the 
copse  where  we  had  found  her  hiding,  Rupert's 
voice,  tuned  to  a  love-song,  echoed  through  the 
woods.  Then,  when  my  daughter  knew  that  Ru- 
pert Hved,  her  obstinacy  was  doubled.  My  wish 
is  to  wed  her  to  Lord  Grogermere.  I  come  to 
thee  for  some  right  powerful  charm  that  will  make 
her  look  on  Grogermere  with  favor. 

Grogermere.  For,  troth,  am  I  not  a  man  to 
win  most  any  lady? 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  275 

Crafton.  Silence,  fool!  [To  Jglma]  If  she  will 
not  wed  him,  then  I  leave  the  rest  to  you. 
Rosalind.  Oh,  father,  mercy! 
Crafton.  Do  what  thou  wilt  with  her.    She 
will  no  longer  be  mine. 

Rosalind.  Father,  have  mercy!  Let  me  return 
to  my  husband.  Deal  with  me  less  cruelly,  father, 
I  beg  of  thee! 

Crafton.  Silence,  girl!  I  will  not  hear  thee 
more. 

Rosalind.  Rupert,  my  Red  Ranger,  will  yet 

have  revenge  on  all  of  you  for  this! 

Jglma.  [Aside]  Ha!    Rupert!    I  do  fear  that 

man! 

'Twas  long  ago  foretold  that  when  my  power 

Broke,  and  I  faced  my  last,  stern,  reckoning 

hour. 
And  all  my  magic  from  me  far  had  fled. 
Vengeance  would  come  upon  me  clad  in  red! 
Crafton.  Come,  come,  a  charm!    Work  with 
thy  magic  on  the  maid. 
Jglma.  Quite  as  you  say,  my  lord.    Yet  I'm 
afraid! 
To  Rosalind. 
Ha,  my  pretty,  do  not  flee; 


276  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

In  yonder  man  I'll  make  thee  see 
Him  whom  thou  dost  love  the  most 
In  all  the  world's  unnumbered  host. 
Close  thy  eyes,  and  when  anew, 
Yonder  ancient  lord  they  view. 
Thou  wilt  find  him  perfect  quite 
For  thy  own  true  loving  knight! 
Rosalind.  I  do  not  fear  thy  charms!    E'en 
magic  cannot  make  me  look  on  any  man  other 
than  Rupert  and  see  in  him  one  whom  I  love! 
Jglma.  Ha!    That  name  again! 
But  I  will  bind  thee  with  a  magic  chain 
That  even  Rupert  cannot  break. 
Goes  to  caldron.     Takes  up  some  of  contents 
in  hands.    Sprinkles  drops  about  Rosa- 
lind in  a  circle. 
Thus  from  my  magic  pot  these  drops  I  take. 
Ha,  ha !    My  lady,  sweet,  thou  art  bound  fast ! 
And  till  I  do  release  thee  will  it  last. 
Rosalind.  I  cannot  move!    Oh,  father,  bid  her 
loose  me  from  these  cruel  charms.    Here  am  I  fast, 
chained  by  some  unseen  power.    Oh,  say  the  word 
and  have  her  set  me  free! 

Crafton.  Nay,  girl,  thou  shalt  not  go  hence 
till  thou  goest  as  Lord  Grogermere's  bride. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  277 

Rosalind.  Then  here  I  stay  until  sweet,  wel- 
come death  shall  free  me. 
Death  I  fear  not.    I  fear  not  any  danger, 
While  I  am  true  to  Rupert,  my  Red  Ranger! 
Jglma.  Ha,  ha!  [Makes  motions  at  Rosalind 
with  hands]  Morpheus'  bride  thou  art. 
And  slumbering,  mine  to  use  will  be  thy  heart! 
Rosalind.  Rupert! 

[She  falls.    Jglma  catches  her, 
Jglma.  Ha,  ha!    Old  Jglma  now  may  work  her 
way 
And  make  her  yours.  Lord  Grogermere,  ere 
the  day! 

Curtain. 

Scene  VI 
Frlar  Joseph's  cell. 

Friar.  A  strange  imrest  disturbs  my  very  soul, 
a  feeling  that  some  strange  thing's  in  the  wind. 
Pray  Heaven  it  be  not  that  harm  hath  come  to 
that  brave  lad  and  his  fair  RosaHnd. 

Rupert.  [Without]  Father!    Father! 

Friar.  Enter,  my  son!  [Rupert  comes  in]  Ha! 


278  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

What's  amiss?    Why  these  wild  looks?    Why  this 
unseemly  haste? 

Rupert.  Oh,  father,  she  is  gone!  RosaHnd! 
My  RosaHnd! 

Friar.  Come,  calm  thyself  and  tell  me  all. 

Rupert.  I  left  her  but  to  Ught  my  signal-fire 
to  tell  my  men  we  were  within  the  forest,  and 
when  I  did  return,  the  maid  had  disappeared.  I 
called  my  men.  We  searched.  The  tracks  were 
plain.  Lord  Grafton  and  old  Grogermere,  the 
villains,  had  found  her  resting  and  had  carried 
her  off.  But,  worst  of  all,  the  tracks  led  plain 
enough  to  that  dread  place — the  cave  of  Jglma 
old.  Oh,  much  I  fear  I  ne'er  will  see  her  more! 
My  Rosalind!  Entrance  I  sought.  A  wall  of  liv- 
ing fire  blazed  up  between  the  witch's  den  and  me, 
and  through  it,  faint,  I  heard  my  lady  call: 
"Rupert,  Rupert,  my  Red  Ranger, 
Gome  save  me  from  this  dreaded  danger!" 

Friar.  Despair  not!  There  may  yet  be  found 
a  way  to  break  the  power  of  this  dread  druid 
witch! 

Rupert.  There  must  be  found  a  way!  Lord 
Grafton  seeks  by  charms  to  win  his  daughter's 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  279 

heart  from  me  and  give  it  to  old  Grogermere. 
E'en  now  she  may  have  been  so  charmed  that  she 
forgets  her  husband  and  on  Lord  Grogermere 
looks  and  sees  not  what  he  is  but  what  old  Jglma 
wishes  her  to  see!  Oh,  Heavens!  It  shall  not  be! 
That  wall  of  fire — old  Jglma's  charms — the  devil 
himself — I  fear  them  not!  For  I  will  win  my 
lady  back  or  die! 

Friar.  Nay,  nay,  my  son,  be  not  so  hasty.  I 
think,  perchance,  there  is  another  way.  Grows 
there  not  there  before  old  Jglma's  cave  a  mighty 
oak,  'fore  which  stands  an  altar  rude,  carved  over 
with  the  signs  of  druid  charms,  and  on  which 
old  Jglma  daily  burns  an  offering? 

Rupert.  Ay,  'tis  there!  The  altar  shows  the 
marks  of  recent  fire.  The  oak,  a  mighty  tree, 
spreads  out  its  leaves  and  makes  a  shade  at  noon 
like  twilight  deep.  And  men  avoid  the  spot. 
'Tis  said  strange  ghosts  do  haunt  it  and  strange 
spells  have  fallen  on  those  who  rested  'neath  its 
shade.    But  what  of  this  same  tree? 

Friar.  Long  ere  I  came  to  dwell  within  these 
forest  solitudes,  in  this  same  cell  there  lived  an- 
other man — a  holy  man,  deep  versed  in  holy  lore. 


28o  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Well  he  remembered  when  within  this  wood  the 
druid  mysteries  were  yearly  held.  Beneath  that 
oak  was  placed  the  altar  where  the  highest  priests 
their  human  offerings  slew  and  burned.  He  told 
me  ere  he  died  that  in  that  tree  dwelt  all  the 
power  old  Jglma  exercised;  that  while  the  tree 
lived  on,  old  Jglma  lived;  that  when  it  died  her 
power  died  with  it  and  she  likewise  would  die. 
Now  go,  my  son!  Call  all  your  men.  Then  arm 
yourselves  with  axes  and  lay  low  that  mighty 
monarch  of  our  forest  glades. 

Rupert.  It  shall  be  done  and  Rosalind  be 
saved! 

Friar.  Stay!  A  moment!  Take  this  flask  of 
holy  water,  for  perchance  it  will  be  needed  to  re- 
lease thy  lady  fair  from  any  charms  old  Jglma 
may  have  worked.  Now  go!  My  blessings  and. 
my  earnest  prayers  go  with  thee! 

Rupert.  How  can  I  thank  thee,  father?  Thou 
hast  saved  us  both!  And  Jglma  shall  no  longer 
nile  these  glades  with  her  dread  power.  I  go! 
And  Heaven  help  me  win  the  day  I 

Curtain, 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  281 

Scene  VII 

Jglma's  cave.  Rosalind  still  sleeping.  Jglma  is 
stirring  the  caldron.  Crafton  and  Groger- 
MERE  are  together  on  opposite  side  of  stage. 

Jglma.  Ha,  ha!    My  pretty  lady,  slumber  still. 
While  the  spell  lasts  on  thee  I'll  work  my 

will. 
Sleep  sweetly — and  in  Grogermere  wake  to  see 
All  of  perfection  that  a  man  should  be! 
Ha,  ha!    Ha,  ha!    Ha,  ha! 
And  you,  who  crouch  there  fearful  'gainst  the 

wall, 
Fearing  on  thee  my  charms  jnight  hap  to  fall. 
Come  hither — ^help  me  win  for  you  the  maid. 
Coward  that  you  are,  of  me  be  not  afraid. 
Grogermere.  Jglma,  sweet  Jglma,  harm  me 

not! 
Jglma.  Ha,  ha!    I  hope  thy  creaking  bones  may 

rot! 
Grogermere.  Oh,  Jglma,  Jglma,  pity,  mercy, 
pray! 
Jglma.  I  doubt,  coward,  if  thou  livest  to  see 
the  day! 


282  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Grogermere.  Heaven    defend    me!    Deep    I 
curse  the  hour 
That  put  me  in  this  wicked  creature's  power! 
Jglma.  Revile  me  not!    Thou  fool!    I  but  as- 
sayed 
To  find  how  much  thou  really  wert  afraid. 
Come  hither,  now,  take  Rosalind's  hand  in 

thine; 
Thrice  say:    "Wake,  lady,  wake  to  be  all 
mine!" 
Crafton.  Be  not  afraid,  Lord  Grogermere.    I 
am  here  to  see  that  no  harm  comes  to  thee. 

Grogermere.  A  strange,  cold  fear  clutches 
my  very  heart,  and  steals  throughout  my  Hmbs. 
Oh,  that  I  ne'er  had  followed  thee  to  Jglma's 
cell! 

Crafton.  Come,  come,  man!    Everything  will 
yet  be  well! 
Jglma.  Ha!    Hasten,  fool,  or  troth,  the  spell 
will  break. 
And  other  spells  I  will  be  forced  to  make! 
Grogermere.  Then  I  obey.    And  now  I  take 
her  hand.     "Wake,  dear  lady,  w-w-w-w-w-wake 
to  be  all  mine!" 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  283 

Jglma.  [Screams]  Ha!    What  is   this!     [Blows 
of  an  axe  are  heard]  A  dagger  strikes  my  heart! 
I'm  being  murdered!    Now  is  all  my  art 
But  useless  quite!    I  am  undone,  I  say! 
Oh,  druid  gods !    Your  help,  your  succor,  pray ! 
[Screams]  Ha! — the  blows!    Each  is  at  me,  at 

me! 
They  kill  my  body,  set  my  spirit  free! 
'Twill  wander  curst  throughout  eternal  years! 
Mercy!    Have  mercy!    Spare  me!    Misery! 

Tears! 
I  am  undone!    My  Hfe,  my  oak-tree  falls! 
Oh,  gods  and  devils!    It  is  Jglma  calls! 
Stop    them!    Prevent    the    felling    of    that 

tree! — 
They  hear  me  not,  and  neither  do  they  see! 
The   end  hath   come!    The  end! — I  die — I 
die ! — Ha,  ha !    Ye  heavens,  spHt  with  my  last 

cry!    Ha—!    Ha—!    Ha ! 

All  lights  of,  Jglma  goes  screaming  from  the 
cave.     The  sound  of  the  oak-tree  falling. 
Wild  noises. 
Grogermere.  Oh,  Heaven,  save  us!  What  hath 
happened?    Are  we,  too,  undone? 


284  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Crafton.  Lost!    Lost!    The  spell  is  broken! 
We  must  flee! 
It  can  be  no  other  than  Red  Rupert  who  has 

done  this  deed! 
Come,  Grogermere,  draw  thy  sword  and  follow 

me! 

We'll  fight  our  way,  and  yet  we  shall  be  free! 

Both  exit.    Sound  of  fighting.     Yells.    Spot- 

light   on  face   of  Rosalind.    Rupert, 

sword  in  hand,  hursts  into  the  cave. 

Rupert.  Rosalind!     Rosalind!     Ah!     Thank 

Heaven,  she  lives.    Wake,  my  dear  lady,  it  is 

Rupert  calls!    She  stirs  not!    Is  it  death?    Is  this 

pure  light  that  round  her  like  a  halo  spreads  the 

sign  of  a  sweet  spirit  passing?    Perchance  she  still 

is  under  Jglma's  charms,  though  that  cruel  hag 

lies  spent  and  Hfeless  quite,  stretched  by  the  fallen 

tree  that  was  her  Ufe.    Ha!    What  foul  drops  are 

these?    A   charm — a   charm!    They   circle   her. 

Perchance  they  hold  her  fast.    Ay,  she  is  fast! 

I  cannot  move  her  though  my  strength  is  great! 

Stay!    The  holy  water!    First,  within  the  caldron 

I  will  drop  three  drops.  [Explosion  in  caldron] 

Ha!    The  power  of  that  vile  hatchery  of  wicked- 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  285 

ness  is  o'er!  Now  here  about  my  lady  on  the  floor 
I  make  another  circle.  On  her  hps  I  sprinkle  what 
is  left.  She  stirs,  she  wakes!  Oh,  RosaUnd,  'tis 
I— thy  Rupert! 

Rosalind.  Rupert!    Rupert! 

Rupert.  Here  am  I,  dearest  lady,  at  thy  side. 
Now  fear  no  more,  for  Jglma's  power  is  broken 
and  Grogermere  and  thy  father  are  captives. 

Rosalind.  Oh,  Rupert!  Rupert!  I  am  safe  at 
last! 

Rupert.  Safe  always,  for  my  love  shall  hold 
you  fast. 

Curtain. 

Scene  VIH 

A  forest  glade.  Rupert  and  Rosalind  seated  on 
rustic  chairs  at  rustic  table.  Rosalind  is  again 
dressed  as  a  girl. 

Rupert.  At  last,  dear  RosaHnd,  we  find  that 
peace  for  which  we  long  have  wished.  No  more 
must  we  those  stolen  moments  sweet  have  as  our 
only  meetings.  Never  again  will  Jglma  work  her 
magic  black  against  our  love.    Henceforth  within 


286  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

these  forest  glades  we  dwell,  and  peace  shall  be 
our  lot,  and  happiness. 

Rosalind.  It  seems,  dear  Rupert,  almost  like  a 
dream — a  lovely  dream  from  which  I  soon  may 
wake  to  find  myself  a  captive  in  old  Jglma's  cave, 
or  locked  in  some  fast  tower  of  Grogermere  Hall. 

Rupert.  Fear  not,  my  loved  one.  It  is  true — 
quite  true.  No  more  shall  danger  threat  thee. 
Thou  art  safe.  But  who  comes  here?  'Tis  John 
of  Ardmore.  Enter,  we  bid  thee.  And  what 
brings  thee  here? 

Enter  John  of  Ardmore. 

John.  I  come,  my  lord,  to  ask  what's  to  be  done 
with  those  two  prisoners  taken  in  the  fight  when 
Jglma's  cave  we  stormed  and  did  destroy. 

Rupert.  Do  they  rest  easy?  Have  ye  done 
my  bidding  and  made  them  quite  as  comfortable 
as  can  be  here  in  our  forest? 

John.  Ay,  my  lord.  But  one  says  not  a  word 
and  only  stares  before  him  with  a  silent,  fixed 
stare.  The  other  grovels  'fore  each  man  he  sees 
and  begs  but  that  we  spare  him.  Such  a  coward 
methinks  I  ne'er  have  seen  in  all  the  years  I've 
ranged  the  forest. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  287 

Rosalind.  The  other — he  is  brave? 

John.  He  is  a  brave  man,  lady,  though  me- 
thinks  he  now  repents  him  of  the  wrongs  he's  done, 
or  else  the  blackness  of  his  heart  may  come  from 
disappointment  deep,  and  longing  deeper  still  to 
yet  attain  revenge  for  capture.  Sometimes,  when 
alone,  he  mutters  to  himself.  Again  he  calls  the 
other  captive  coward  and  fool,  a  grovelling  weak- 
ling not  e'en  fit  to  die,  and  so  in  truth  this  other 
captive  is.  We  have  sent  the  worthy  Friar  Jo- 
seph to  them  to  see  if  holy  consolation  may  ease 
their  present  pain. 

Rosalind.  Oh,  Rupert,  though  my  father  hath 
been  cruel,  though  he  hath  done  against  us  all  a 
man  could  do,  yet  now  I  would  that  we  might 
show  him  mercy,  for  never  will  I  joy  in  this,  our 
joy,  as  fully  as  I  might,  if,  like  a  cloud,  his  misery 
casts  a  shadow  over  all.  Grogermere  I  grieve  not 
for.  Unworthy  he  of  pity  or  of  love.  But  Graf- 
ton is  a  man  of  bravery,  and  in  happier  times  he 
was  a  kind  and  loving  father  to  me. 

Rupert.  John  of  Ardmore,  go  and  bring  the 
prisoners  to  us.  RosaHnd,  to  make  your  happi- 
ness, which  is  my  own,  all  that  it  should  be,  unto 
you  I  leave  the  judgment  of  these  prisoners. 


288  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

Exit  John  of  Ardmore. 

Rosalind.  I  thank  thee,  Rupert!  Thou  art 
ever  kind.  And  I  shall  seek  to  temper  justice 
with  sweet  mercy.  We  would  not  spoil  our  joy 
by  hurting  any  Hving  thing — and  he  is  my  father. 
Though  unnatural,  cruel,  and  changed  from  him  I 
knew  as  father,  still  I  do  remember  him  as  kind 
to  me  when  yet  I  was  a  child. 

Rupert.  Do  as  thou  wilt,  sweet  Rosalind. 
Send  him  back  free,  but  let  him  know  that  if 
again  he  stoops  to  cruelty  such  as  he  oft  hath 
practised,  we  will  raid  his  castle  and  leave  not 
one  stone  standing  on  the  next. 

Rosalind.  And  Grogermere? 

Rupert.  Him  I  ignore.  Weak  fool  and  coward, 
he  is  not  worthy  death  or  punishment.  The  ter- 
rors that  beset  him  are  enough.  Send  him  back 
to  his  castle.  There,  no  doubt,  he  will  brag  that 
he  hath  met  and  vanquished  Rupert  and  his  band. 

Rosalind.  See — 'tis  Friar  Joseph  comes  this 
way.    He  comes  alone;  his  mien  is  strangely  sad. 
Some  dim  foreboding  says  his  news  is  bad. 
Enter  Friar. 

Rupert.  Welcome,  holy  father. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  289 

Rosalind.  Welcome. 

Friar.  Greetings,  my  children,  greetings.  I  do 
come  from  the  two  captives,  and  I  bring  strange 
news.  When  I  entered  the  rude  shelter  where 
they  lay.  Lord  Grafton  bid  me  come  to  him.  The 
man  had  changed.  Upon  a  cot  his  body  was 
stretched  out.  His  face  was  pale  and  drawn.  He 
drew  me  close.  The  smell  of  some  strange  stuff 
was  on  his  lips. 

Rosalind.  My  father! 

Friar.  Nay,  my  child,  be  calm.  Whispering, 
Lord  Grafton  did  unfold  a  tale  of  his  own  cunning 
and  past  cruelty.  Know,  Rosalind,  that  he  is  not 
your  father. 

Rosalind.  Ah! 

Friar.  When  yet  you  were  a  Kttle  babe  in  arms. 
Lord  Grafton  and  his  men  waged  cruel  war  upon 
your  father,  Gerald  Vere  de  Vere.  And  when  the 
castle  fell,  all  in  it  felt  the  sword,  and  thus  met 
death,  save  you,  a  babe  of  seven  months.  Grafton 
was  childless,  so  he  bore  you  home,  for  Gerald  was 
his  cousin,  and  some  strange  compunction  seized 
him  when  he  saw  you  helpless  in  your  cradle.  He 
reared  you  as  his  daughter,  and  was  kind  imtil 


290  THE  BARNSTORMERS 

the  question  of  your  marriage  rose.  But  he  hath 
now  repented  of  his  cruelty,  for,  as  death  stole  the 
breath  from  out  him,  he 

Rosalind.  Death?    Say  ye  death? 

Friar.  Death,  my  child,  for  he  wished  it,  and 
a  phial  of  poison  which  he  had  with  him  brought 
painless  death. 

Rosalind.  It  grieves  me  sore. 

Friar.  Grieve  not!  He  is  at  peace,  for  ere  he 
died  he  sought  to  right  the  wrongs  which  he  had 
done  thee.  Here  I  have  his  will,  and  unto  you 
he  leaves  his  castles,  land,  and  whole  estate. 

Rosalind.  I  would  I  might  have  seen  him  ere 
he  died. 

Friar.  Grieve  not,  for  he  is  gone.  But  seek  to 
feel  that  in  his  going  he  did  much  repent,  and 
ere  he  went  he  sought  to  right  with  Heaven  the 
wrongs  of  a  most  ill-spent,  ill-lived  life. 

Rupert.  May  he  forgiveness  find!  Peace  to 
his  soul!  [The  blast  of  a  trumpet.]  Ha!  What  is 
this? 

Enter  John  of  Ardmore. 

John.  A  messenger  from  the  King. 
Enter  Messenger. 


THE  BARNSTORMERS  291 

Messenger.  Know  ye,  my  lord,  whom  men 
have  called  Rupert  the  Red  Ranger,  the  King 
hath,  on  advice  of  all  his  lords,  decided  to  restore 
your  titles,  lands,  and  all  thereto  pertaining.     He 
hath  found  that  grievous  wrong  was  done  thee 
and  now  seeks  to  make  full  restitution.     'Tis  the 
royal  command  that  to  the  court  you  come  to 
kiss  his  hand  and  there  receive  full  pardon. 
Rupert.  My  thanks  unto  his  Highness.    I  shall 
come. 
But  ever  here,  within  these  forest  glades. 
Will  be  my  best-loved  seat.    Here  shall  I  bide, 
And  here  erect  a  castle  for  my  bride. 
Now  Heaven  be  thanked  that  sees  this  happy 

day. 
When  justice,  love,  and  mercy  end  our  play! 

Curtain. 


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